


Heroes and Saints.

by jovialien



Series: Iantowood [7]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied Torture, Other, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 166,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jovialien/pseuds/jovialien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers - see notes!</p>
<p>“The hero is the one who kindles a great light in the world, who sets up blazing torches in the dark streets of life for men to see by. The saint is the man who walks through the dark paths of the world, himself a light.”<br/>Felix Adler</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jack is home, but he has returned to a crisis in Ianto's new Torchwood. With the evidence mounting of a spy in their midst, and a strange illness starting to spread, can Ianto control Jack and his own inexperienced team well enough to find the spy - and the cause - in time?

Captain Jack Harkness could feel his breath rasping along his throat as he crouched behind the storage container. His coat was splayed out behind his bent legs, the hem dragging on the dusty floor of the warehouse, and his arms were held up and ready. The gun in his grip was new to him but he was a fast learner, his finger ready on the trigger. He had practised with it enough to learn its range and capabilities, but practice against a piece of cardboard was very different than live fire against a living target.   
  
And six living targets were another matter entirely.   
  
Jack missed his Webley. He had been offered newer guns but it was about more than just having a weapon of his own, it had been that particular weapon that had been with him through decades of war and fighting. It had been more than just metal; it had been a link to his past, a constant ally in an ever changing world. It was not even the fact that it had saved his life that was important, he wasn't protective enough of his own body to worry about it most of the time, but it had saved others, people he loved, and for that it had been special to him.   
  
But just as he had learned to say goodbye to the people in his life, he knew how to let go of things too. Moving on was an essential skill for an immortal, and he was an expert. Besides, weapons had moved on a lot since then and it was good to upgrade. The gun in his grip now was a very unusual design, lightweight but powerful in its own way, and he had to admit, it was a beauty.   
  
Right now though, he wouldn't have minded having two instead of one.   
  
Closing his eyes, he listened carefully to the darkness around him, the smell of must and metal cloying yet tangy in the still air. He wasn't sure if the metallic taste in his mouth was psychological, a side effect of the metal walls trapping him in the building and the solid containers he was seeking refuge behind, or something real, some trace of blood left behind by some victim past, or just his imagination going wild with what he had heard about this place, about what had happened here in the past and why he had come to be here.   
  
Or what could happen here now if he didn't concentrate.   
  
Jack kept his eyes closed as he stayed still, listening hard and ignoring his sight to focus on his other senses. It was dark in the warehouse, but thin shafts of light penetrated the thick walls of the building in places, enough to destroy his night vision if he got too close to one but not enough to make out much more than vague details of the huge space. He didn't need to see to know what was there though; a maze of containers and equipment filled the warehouse around him and somewhere in that darkness lurked six killers, all intent on one thing; finding him.   
  
If they had been sex crazed and blind it would almost be a re-enactment of a very good night he had spent on Salimore Prime. There was nothing quite like being hunted to fire the blood, to make him feel alive and want to share it with someone else, and just like that night he could feel his blood pounding in his ears, almost blocking out everything else-   
  
There. A soft clink of metal on metal and he was spinning, almost silent on the floor, the faintest whisper of his coat the only sound as his gun moved instinctively to point towards the sound and with a gentle pressure he felt it fire, the recoil just a gentle nudge against his fingers. A soft cry marked success and he opened his eyes in time to see a shadowy figure drop to the ground to his left.   
  
One down.   
  
Jack quickly closed his eyes again, trying to regain his focus. The cry had caused someone else to react, another sound to his right, a soft scrape like fine gravel or sand. Swinging to trace it he didn't fire straight off, concentrating on it, the sound too vague to aim for. Firing had given his position away and he had to move soon, but with a little bit of luck...   
  
Another soft scrape was enough, his gun rising a little to find the body and then firing, the fine puff of the almost silent weapon not enough to cover the sudden shuffle as his target tried to avoid the blow. Unsuccessfully. Another thud, another one down.   
  
That left him against four opponents. Better odds already.   
  
Time to move. Looking around as best he could, he planned out his route, the mental map he had made from his earlier explorations guiding him. Rising silently to his feet, he stepped soundlessly across the gap between the crates and into another dark corridor. Placing his back flat against the cold metal, he let his body relax a little against it, trying to still the rush of blood and breath he could feel surging through him.   
  
Damn, he'd missed this.   
  
It wasn't a sound that drew his attention this time, but movement. He watched out of the corner of his eye as a slender shadow detached itself from the darkness and crouched beside its fallen comrade, whether out of concern or to try to glean some clue as to his location Jack couldn't tell. It didn't matter really; a move of his arm and another silent pull of the trigger and the shadow slumped, joining its friend on the cold warehouse floor.   
  
Halfway there.   
  
It was getting too hot to stay here; the sound of their friends falling would bring the others, if they weren't already here. He had to move again, get some distance between them, he had to-   
  
Turning away from the shadowy figures of his victims, Jack froze as a shape appeared out of the darkness, cold eyes staring into his before the slightest puff of air reached his ears even as a stinging pain hit his chest. The shadows grew in his eyes, taking him with them as he collapsed to the floor, his legs gone, his arms unable to break his fall-   
  
Game over.   
  
*******************************   
  
Waking up was never Jack's favourite activity. Waking up to bright artificial lighting, a sound of mocking laughter and pounding boots definitely ranked pretty low down his list of favourite ways to wake up.   
  
Waking up to a grinning female face so smug he just wanted to smash it, even if he did generally try not to hit 21st century women, was enough to really ruin his day.   
  
“Good morning Captain, so glad you could rejoin us.”   
  
Jack sat up slowly, trying not to let on just how stiff his muscles were as Johnson moved away, laughing with her team as they all relaxed from the exercise. The bright light had not done much to improve the warehouse's appearance, and the thick layer of dust on the floor – and now him – made Jack frown. He was going to have to brush his coat down thoroughly yet again. It was definitely more fun being the hunter than the hunted.   
  
Speaking of which...   
  
Rubbing a hand across his chest, Jack found the hole where the small projectile had pierced his clothing and attached itself to his skin. An instant sedative had finished the job, fast acting but also luckily short lived. Looking around him, Jack spotted his three victims all already standing and recovered, their identical black clothing matching the camouflage of their chosen pseudonyms, anonymity the favourite weapon of the former soldiers, mercenaries, or general 'wet ops' agents. Noddy saw him looking and gave a sheepish grin even as Hugh stretched, his hand absent-mindedly rubbing over the impact mark on his shoulder.    
  
So Noddy  _had_  been the one checking on his fallen friends. Jack had recognised the slightness of his form as he had fired. The kid was young, in his early twenties at the very most, his movements somehow not quite as fluid as the others' and his frame still had that vaguely stretched feel to it. as though he had grown too fast too soon and his muscles hadn't quite caught up. It was enough to make him stand out from the rest of the group of burly soldiers.   
  
Not to mention his concern for the others; the boy really cared about them. Especially Big Ears. Jack had already noticed that the two were practically inseparable, and he wondered if there was more than just the usual 'brothers in arms' bond between them, their familiarity and looks close enough to maybe even be real brothers for all he knew. In the team exercises, only their pair had been able to best Johnson, the men moving in perfect unison, as though telepathically linked.   
  
The larger pair, Bill and Ben, were still lurking off to one side, almost smirking at him. He was sure he hadn't found either of them this time, their relative bulk making them more identifiable than the others even in full blackout gear, which meant Pugh had to have been the other one he had manage to hit. Jack felt a moment's satisfaction at his progress; he had only spent a few hours with the team so far but he was already starting to recognise some of Johnson's boys, even in the dark.   
  
Now, that was a skill it might be best not to tell Ianto about...   
  
Of course, spending the past three solid hours training with them in the warehouse, plus the two hours on the firing range that morning, had done wonders for speeding up the process. Johnson was relentless in drilling them and putting them through their paces. They had been taking it in turns to hunt and evade each other through the dark space, sometimes in teams, sometimes all against one, and once even a complete free for all last man standing battle royale.   
  
Jack was still smarting that he hadn't been the last man standing. In fact, strictly speaking it had been the last woman standing.   
  
Hence the smug grin.   
  
Getting to his feet, Jack holstered his new gun and dusted himself off. The weapon was designed for humans, and to incapacitate only; a last resort for when it was necessary to knock someone out for their own good. It was also a hell of a lot of fun for these live fire tests. Jack had half jokingly suggested they could use actual live fire when it was his turn to be hunted but, other than the quickest flash of mischief in Johnson's eyes, there had been no rush to take him up on his offer.   
  
It was somewhat humbling to have his one real advantage over the others stripped away and rendered useless. In this game he was just as vulnerable as they were. Which, even though Jack didn't realise it until much later, was exactly the point.   
  
“Right ladies, now we're all awake, we've got time for one more game before we call it a night. Any of you lot think you can best me in another round of last man standing?”   
  
Challenging grins greeted Johnson from her boys and she smiled back coldly but with a look of approval on her face. “Right then, gear on, everyone in the centre. Once the lights go out you have thirty seconds to get away before the hunt begins.” Jack listened to her with only half his attention; he had picked up the drill from the last game, yet she still reiterated the rules every time like a dealer at a poker game. Except in this game it wasn't just the aces that were wild.    
  
“Heart rate monitors,” she continued as Jack glanced once again at the unfamiliar device strapped to his forearm and shifted it back into place properly, “will record kill shots, when only one man is left the buzzer will sound and the lights will come back up. Of course,” Johnson smiled again, “there is always a chance that one day one of you might actually 'live' long enough to see that for yourself.”   
  
Checking her ammo level, she holstered her gun against her thigh and pulled the black mask back down over her face, just her eyes remaining as she regarded her team as they did the same. Only Jack was different, his usual clothing making him more visible than they were, but he had refused to get changed. There were some things he could move on from, like his gun, and some that he would never willingly give up. The coat stayed.   
  
Even if he did have to clean it himself now.   
  
Ready, the team moved to the centre of the warehouse and waited as the monitors were reset and the game was ready to begin. The second the lights went out they all moved, Jack turning quickly on the spot and blinking his eyes to try to ignore the after-images of the bright lights as he ran. His arms were out in front to guide him but his footing was sure, his fingertips finding the edge of the crate where he thought it would be and trailing over its ridges to guide him as he finally opened his eyes again.   
  
He knew just where he wanted to start, a back corner of the warehouse, with clear sight-lines along two walls and-   
  
Jack stopped, his hands reflexively rising to cover his eyes as a grinding noise echoed throughout the warehouse and brilliant sunlight hit his body. Blinking furiously, he peered around his fingers at the figure silhouetted against the daylight, the lines resolving into a human form that was walking towards him-   
  
No. Not walking. Swaggering. There was only one person Jack knew who could swagger quite like that.   
  
“John. What the hell are you doing here?”   
  
Grinning, Captain John Hart opened his wrist strap and overrode the monitors in the warehouse, ending the game and bringing the lights back up in one go. Within seconds, the rest of the soldiers were there, Johnson stepping forward to face John as she ripped off her mask, her ponytail swinging free again.   
  
“Captain. I hope you have a bloody good reason for interrupting us during a live fire exercise, or do you just like waking up staring up at me like your friend here?”   
  
Nodding, John glanced round the team then back at Johnson. “Orders from Ianto, he needs you back at the office for a briefing at 1400. He's been in calls with some Colonel from UNIT all morning, looks like something's come up, we've got one of his big team pow wows with the UNIT guy on a conference call. He might have a job for you.”   
  
“What sort of alien?” she said sharply, motioning to Noddy and Big Ears and silently dispatching them to recover the team's gear.   
  
“Not sure yet, but from what I've heard it might be the most dangerous kind of all,” he smirked. “Human.”   
  
Johnson raised her eyebrows in surprise then glanced down at the gun still in her hand. “Then I guess we practised this at just the right time. Boys, you heard the man. We've got a job to do. Pack it up and let's go see the boss.”   
  
They moved off as one, swinging into action with an efficiency that made Jack feel positively clumsy. Alone with John at last, Jack shifted to wrap one arm across his midriff and gesture with the other, his voice positively dripping with disdain as he regarded John with a glare. “So, you're playing messenger boy now? Bit of a come down isn't it?”   
  
“Beats grunt work. At least I don't have to follow orders all day.” John didn't notice Johnson reappear behind him, her kit bag slung over her back and the faintest smile on her face as her reply made him jump just a little.    
  
“No, you just follow them all night.” Waiting just long enough to see the furious yet delighted grin he shot her, she marched on out, leaving the two Captains behind to watch her departing back.   
  
“Is it just me,” Jack started slowly, his anger temporarily fading as his curiosity got the better of him, “or does she really remind me of your ex-”   
  
“Oh, yeah,” John confirmed with a momentary shared grin, raising his eyebrows at the memory, “in so many ways. And what's with the your, she was as much yours as mine-”   
  
“Gotta love open marriages.”   
  
“Gotta love a speedy divorce,” John added, shaking his head quickly. “Never doing that again.”   
  
“Pity, the white dress really suited you.”   
  
“Yeah, but the heels were a bitch, you can never wear them in enough before the big day-”   
  
They stopped as Noddy appeared from behind the crates, the faintest blush on his cheeks and his quick pace through the open door suggesting he had overheard more than he should. Jack shared one more quick grin with John before pointing him towards the door. Following him out into the sunlight, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever the task ahead would be.   
  
And, all jokes aside, if it gave him an excuse to shoot John at any point, that would be a welcome bonus...   
  
**************************************** *******   
  
Jack was stiff as he followed Johnson through and into the Torchwood offices, his body reacting to the unusual workout and complaining a little about one too many commando rolls. Immortal he may be, but that didn't mean he didn't ache sometimes too. He had only briefly seen the offices so far, accepting his assignment to retraining with Johnson with good grace, but at the same time wondering if Ianto had been trying to get rid of him. He had been back at work a day and a half already and had barely seen Ianto so far.   
  
He hadn't seen Gwen either, but that had been entirely his own fault.    
  
Jack stopped behind Johnson as they looked out across the offices, the technicians glancing up from their work and nodding politely to the team, their eyes lingering longer on Jack. He was used to curious stares, but the whole room always seemed to be analysing him, assessing him, working out who he was, what he was, and whether he was a threat or of interest. Almost as one, they looked away again, although whether it was down to them deciding to ignore him, or some signal from Johnson that he hadn't seen, he couldn't tell.   
  
Then again, they had been working with John for some time, so their definition of 'unusual visitor' had to be pretty broad.   
  
Jack smiled as the door to one of the offices opened and a familiar figure appeared. He still wasn't used to the more casual look Ianto was going for, his dark jeans showing off the deep purple of his shirt and the stubble covering his cheeks starting to form into something more solid – and hopefully softer. The tie was gone and the top button of his shirt was undone, just a tiny v of skin visible but somehow even more erotic to Jack than if Ianto had been shirtless.   
  
Jack found himself standing taller, hoping to catch Ianto's eyes as he came out, maybe get a little smile. He'd missed that most of all, not the sex (although, if he was honest with himself, he most definitely missed that too) but the little gestures, the secret smiles and touches that were just his, that made each day something more. The way Ianto would touch his arm, just like he was touching that woman's elbow, and the way he would lean in close to speak, his voice low as he whispered and the way Jack would lean back, just like the woman was...   
  
Jack blinked, almost as though seeing the scene for the first time and finally took in the woman next to Ianto. The way they were acting suggested more than just a passing familiarity, their movements relaxed and confident. Her simple dark trousers did little to hide her gentle curves, her face turned away but her figure in enough of a profile that he could see she was perfectly proportioned, if a little petite, her height only bringing her up to Ianto's ear level.   
  
Her long blue tunic was soft and flowing, a matching scarf draped around her neck and hiding under her long dark hair, peeking out under it like the tip of a newly blooming flower, still not quite certain if spring has arrived. She was modestly dressed, the tunic long and reaching down over her hips, but it was gathered in around her midriff and tied at the back, emphasising her curves in just the right way. In spite of the intriguing glimpses of her figure, Jack found his eyes riveted instead on Ianto's hand as it rested on her back just below the knot of fabric, his fingers almost entangled in the hanging ends as they laughed at some shared joke.   
  
Jack tried to swallow down a hint of jealousy and froze even as he felt John push into the office beside him, working his way through the soldiers to get to the front.   
  
“Who's the babe?” John asked at last, a grin on his face that was reminiscent of a cat that had just spotted a particularly fat and lazy mouse.   
  
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Jack admitted in surprise, his eyes narrowing as Ianto leaned in to hug the mystery woman briefly, his eyes closing as he did so, as though savouring the moment. As Ianto's eyes opened again he caught sight of them watching and gently disentangled himself from his guest, saying something to her that made her look and smile politely.   
  
Now he could see her properly, Jack suddenly knew exactly who she was, even if he didn't know her name. Her face was beautiful, her skin the colour of Ianto's coffee but with a richness that made her seem to glow, and he was suddenly reminded of the old Torchwood base in India and a particular Princess who used to find excuses to drop by when he was stationed there. This woman had the same almost regal posture, her smile genuine but somehow not giving away too much, even though her neck gave him all the clues he needed to work out who she was.   
  
The scars cut right across her neck and hairline, neat and precise, the scarf she wore to hide her neck having slipped down during their hug. Pulling it back up, she caught him looking and her gaze locked onto his; if he didn't know better he would almost think there was hatred in those eyes. He may not know her name but from the way she stared at him he would bet good money she knew his. They all did.   
  
John caught the look and stared hard at Jack. “You know her?”   
  
“Not by name,” Jack said quietly, his mind trying to sift through the grief and horror of that period of time in his memory and find her. “But I know  _who_  she is. She's one of the 27. She's a survivor of Torchwood One.”    
  
*************************************   
  
Johnson watched as Ianto put his arm around the young woman protectively and steered her towards his office. The look the young woman had shot Jack - and the curiosity and confusion on Harkness' face - hinted at a long story. One thing Johnson had learned a long time ago was that long stories were also the most likely to blow up in your face.   
  
It only took her a second to spot the look of determination on Jack's face, and her and John's hands both shot out on instinct to grab Jack's arms just as he began to head towards Ianto's office after them.   
  
“Captain,” she said smoothly dragging his attention back to her. “Armoury. Now.” They had to check their weapons back in before the meeting; Ianto insisted on nobody being armed in the office. But more than that, she wanted him off of the main office floor before the technicians noticed his reaction.    
  
Ianto wanted Jack's presence to be low key for now, and certainly none of their personal history shared with the others, but if Harkness was going to react like this every time he was around Ianto, they were going to have their work cut out for them.   
  
Throwing them both a glare, Jack shook them off and shot a last look of longing at Ianto's office door. He nodded once, pushing past them to follow the rest of the team as they drifted across the office to the thicker set yet nondescript door halfway along its length. As she watched him go, Johnson felt more than saw Hart slip forward to stand beside her.   
  
“He's gonna be a handful, you know that right? Ego bigger than Jupiter and used to following his own lead, never listens to anyone else, not to mention his temper-”   
  
Johnson cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. “He's been in a chain of command for more decades than we've been alive, and not all of them in charge. He will adjust to being a soldier again, it's just going to take him a little time.”   
  
John snorted disbelievingly. “If you say so love, I've seen stars go supernova in less time than it takes him to get over himself, but whatever you say. Just remember, he's not one of your little team, he's got a past, a darkness that most people only go near in their nightmares.”   
  
“Haven't we all?” she murmured, turning to face him at last with a hint of a smile on her face that he responded to with a grin of his own.   
  
“Well, now you mention it...”   
  
“Besides,” she added, her smile fading again, “it's not him following orders I'm worried about.” John raised an eyebrow and watched as she brought her gaze back to Ianto's door. “It's easy to obey an order, even one that might kill you. It's a lot harder to give it, especially when it might hurt someone you love.”   
  
John frowned, then shrugged as he got what she was talking about. “Ianto? Nah, he's good. Besides, Jack's special, it's not the same sort of thing, you knock him down and he just bounces straight back up again, twice as annoying as ever.”   
  
“Yes, but Ianto doesn't.” Shaking her head slightly, Johnson placed a hand on his arm to push him towards the Armoury, giving up on the argument. Hart was many things, but she knew that putting someone else first was something he just wouldn't understand.    
  
**************************************** ******   
  
Ianto pulled the door closed behind them and motioned to the chair in front of his desk, settling down opposite the woman. “You okay?”   
  
Nodding quickly, she took her seat and readjusted the scarf over her neck self consciously, her face a little pale. “I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting the sight of him to be so...” Shrugging, she crossed her legs, smoothing down her dark trousers, and placed her hands on her knee. “It's been so long, I thought I'd put it all behind me.”   
  
“I'm sorry to drag you back into it again Cassie,” Ianto said quickly, grabbing a couple of printouts off his desk and sliding them over to her. “But I need your help. I have a bit of a staffing problem that I need your advice on.”   
  
Taking the papers off him, Cassie flicked through them slowly, taking in the photos and names and brief bios on each page dispassionately. Ianto knew that behind those eyes there was a lot more at work, her mind analysing and absorbing every word off the page even without her being aware of it. A truly eidetic visual memory, a trait that was highly prized at Torchwood One, had ensured the young woman in front of him had advanced quickly. That, in conjunction with her other unique skills, had meant she had been considered highly valuable to the Torchwood Institute.   
  
Unfortunately, it had also made her an interesting target for the Cybermen.   
  
Ianto had never met her before that day, had not even seen her as he fled the building, Lisa's blood on his hands and suit as he tried desperately to save her. It was only later, in the 'therapy' sessions that all of the survivors had been forced to attend, that he had become aware of her existence. Her scars had been far more vivid then, the harsh red lines and white surgical tape a constant reminder of what she had been through and what could have happened to the rest of them if they hadn't been able to run or hide or been out on assignment that fateful day.   
  
It had only been when she had picked up on his secret that they had really bothered to get to know each other. For him, she had been a threat, then the most valuable asset he could have on his side. For her, he had been a chance to try and help a kindred spirit - and to get back at the people she blamed for her own fate.   
  
Putting the papers back down, Cassie looked at him curiously. “No file on Harkness?”   
  
Shaking his head, Ianto smiled slightly. “No. He's not involved in this, that I know for sure.”   
  
“Because he told you so?” She said sarcastically, folding her arms as she glared at him just a little.   
  
“Because he was off planet. Look, I know you don't like him-”   
  
Laughing once and without humour she cut him off with a sharp slash of her hand. “Don't like him? Why would I dislike him? I never even met the man before. He didn't even bother to meet us before declaring that we had to hide everything about our former lives and casting us off into oblivion-”   
  
“It wasn't like that, he didn't have much choice.”   
  
“He didn't even try, Ianto.” Blowing out a deep breath, she lowered her hand and the anger slowly faded from her face. “I just... I didn't even get to keep my own name, and every time I see myself I don't even look like me. Do you know how hard it is to look in the mirror and see these, these, things on your face and be reminded every single time of one of the worst days in your life?”   
  
Touching his own face gently, Ianto ran his fingertip over the scar on his cheek. “Maybe a little.”   
  
He was rewarded with a begrudging nod and smile as she shook her head a little. “It's just hard trying to come up with excuses for these things, my scars, and then to see it in people's eyes every time, the way they don't believe me and come up with some story of their own, no doubt casting me as the poor little victim.” Pushing the papers towards him, she shook her head. “And now you want me to what, to find your mole for you?”   
  
“In a word, yes,” Ianto admitted, taking the papers back. “Reed was the main leader behind this but he had to have had help, he was too new to have been doing it for long and from what I can tell this has been going on for a while. I need to know who has been betraying us and how.”   
  
“I'll need time with each of them,” she said finally, nodding to herself as she spoke. “I assume nobody is to know why I'm really here?”   
  
“Nobody but Jack and my immediate command team will know, and then only after you've cleared them.”   
  
“You do know I can't be 100% certain on anything, I can only tell you what I observe. I'll also need the feed from all the video footage you have in the office-”   
  
“What makes you think we have any CCTV in here?” Ianto interrupted with a small smile.   
  
“You're still Torchwood aren't you?”   
  
Nodding begrudgingly, he tapped the desk. “For your eyes only?”   
  
“Not if you want an accurate analysis in time to make any difference. I need to be able to send clips back to the states, my colleagues are security cleared and discretion is guaranteed-”   
  
“Do they  _have_  to have audio or will just video do?”   
  
“Ianto, come on-”   
  
“Can you work with just visual?”   
  
Sighing, she threw her hands up in defeat. “Fine, video only, but I'm warning you, this may be a big mistake.”   
  
“I know I'm tying one hand behind your back Cassie-”   
  
“More like both hands and hanging me upside down by my ankles,” she grumbled. “Look, Ianto, this isn't some mathematical equation or problem to be solved, a lot of it is instinct and needs the context of an entire conversation to make sense. But I'll do what I can for you. After that... it's up to you how you handle matters.”   
  
“I know,” Ianto said quietly.   
  
“And my standard consultancy rates apply, along with a bonus for any hazardous work, and all travel and living expenses whilst I'm over here.”   
  
“Already arranged with your firm, we've paid for a week up front and any additional expenses you can bill back to us however you want. I've got a briefing set up with everyone in a few minutes, a UNIT colonel is dialling in to help explain what's going on but I've already got everything of use from him, he knows this is just to help see if anyone gives themselves away.”   
  
“Oh everyone will give away something, just not necessarily the thing you're after; everyone has something to hide after all. Which brings me to my final demand,” she said quickly, “when this is all over I have one more request.” Leaning forward, she smiled somewhat sadly and reached out her hand to rest on the desk near his. “Dinner. You, me, you can even bring Harkness if you really must-”   
  
“Oh, you know about-”   
  
“Yeah, I do, and believe me that was a  _big_  surprise, but I want to know what's been going on with you. All of it. I got the basic bio off of the CIA when you all went AWOL after that whole 456 business, and damn those guys just won't take no for an answer, but a file isn't enough. I need to hear it from you.” Looking at him oddly, she waited until he was staring her in the eyes before she asked one final question. “Do you love him?”   
  
Ianto didn't speak or move, just kept as still as he could, and she smiled tightly, nodding just once. “Thought so. Right then, we'd better get this show on the road.”   
  
**************************************** ******   
  
Ianto had expected there to be some teething problems whilst the two Captains got used to working together again. He hadn't expected this.   
  
As he walked into the Armoury, Ianto stopped dead as he took in the sight before him. Sprawled on the floor, Jack and John appeared to be wrestling, their legs and arms wrapped around each other in a bizarre and constantly shifting mix that made it hard to tell who might actually be winning. Judging by the way the soldiers were standing around them and placing bets, the odds being offered seemed to suggest John had the upper hand at that moment, although how they could tell Ianto had no idea.   
  
Clearing his throat pointedly, he watched as the soldiers quickly sprang to attention, watching him closely whilst Johnson simply strode forward to greet him, stepping over a stray leg with ease. “Mr Jones.”   
  
“Johnson. Should I ask what started this?”   
  
Shrugging, she cast a glance at her occasional lover as he twisted on the floor and managed to wrap his arm around Jack's throat. “Does it matter? They are going to be like this for a few days at least, I'd just let them beat it out of each other.”   
  
“How about I just shoot them both and let fate decide the winner,” Ianto muttered quietly. “Alright,” he raised his voice as John grinned up at him, Jack's steadily reddening face peering up from under his arm. “Conference room, now. The Captains and I will meet you there.”   
  
“You heard the man, let's go ladies.”    
  
Ianto watched in silence as Johnson led her team out of the room then stepped forwards to crouch down in front of his two former lovers. John loosened his grip in reply and then let out a loud oof as Jack took advantage of the distraction to elbow the other man in the stomach and extricate himself. Rubbing his chest, John kicked Jack away as he wriggled free.   
  
“Cheat.”   
  
“I'm the cheat?” Jack complained, pushing away and rubbing his throat. “You're the one who jumped me from behind.”   
  
“Time was, you liked me surprising you from behind-” John said with a leer, shuffling back as Jack tried to launch himself across the floor again, Ianto's hand shooting out to stop him.   
  
“Seriously, you two, can't you give it a rest for a bit?” Ianto said, his voice weary, and the two of them at least had the good grace to appear slightly ashamed. “I've got enough problems without the pair of you behaving like rutting stags every five minutes.”   
  
“He started it,” John said sulkily, folding his arms across his chest as he slid back on the smooth floor until his back hit the cabinets at the side.   
  
The room was like a giant vault, stainless steel covering every wall with a variety of doors and cupboards. A single smooth worktop circled the room, drawers below it and cupboards above that Ianto knew held a wide variety of weapons of human and alien origin. This was Johnson's domain, her team were the ones who catalogued, tested and researched anything suspected of being a weapon that was found. The various cupboards and drawers had their own independent security system, with only Ianto and Johnson having full access to everything in here.   
  
Insisting they were unarmed in the office was Ianto's way of making sure that he at least didn't have to worry about them accidentally shooting anyone. Their shooting range was in the warehouse, although they did have a chamber to test fire projectile weapons on the floor below. It never hurt to know what a weapon could do – preferably without taking out half the wall though.   
  
Waiting until the two of them had calmed down, their breathing still harsh but the looks on their faces changing from anger to amusement in that annoying way they had, as though they could only contain one emotion at a time or were easily distracted like children with a new toy. Maybe Johnson had it right and he should just let them beat it out of each other after all.   
  
Preferably naked and with some kind of oil involved...   
  
Shaking off the thought quickly, Ianto stood at last and looked down at them both. “I need you both with me on this case. We've got a serious problem.” Looking up at him at last, Ianto could see he finally had their full attention. “The body Reed was trying to steal from storage, it wasn't the first that's gone missing. Looks like it's been going on for some time and that means-”   
  
“We've got a spy in our midst,” John finished for him, looking slightly incredulous. “Blimey. Didn't think any of this lot had it in them to be sneaky. You got any suspects?”   
  
Ianto nodded, his hands sliding to his hips as he let his gaze drift from one to the other. “Pretty much the whole team. I've brought in someone to help us with this but at this moment in time, everyone but her and Jack is a suspect.”   
  
Jack looked curious, but could see that Ianto wasn't going to say any more about her, whilst John froze, as though waiting for Ianto to say his name as well, then frowned. “Oh that's nice, that's really nice.”   
  
Ianto shrugged, completely unapologetic as he stared down at John. “Someone is selling us out, probably just for money rather than any big cause. You were actually top of the list.”   
  
Jack snorted at the hurt look on John's face. “Oh come on, John, no use looking hurt, you know it's true.”   
  
John hesitated for a moment then grinned. “Yeah, but on the other hand it's always nice to know you lot haven't started taking me for granted yet.” Stretching his legs out in front of him, he folded his arms across his chest. “So, how come you're telling me all this?”   
  
Ianto sighed. “You're a crook but I figure, whatever they're offering, we can double it if you tell us everything so it makes more sense to be straight with you from the start.”   
  
Laughing, John shook his head slowly. “Know what, I actually wish I did know something now. I always did like a good old fashioned double cross.”   
  
“Always was your speciality,” Jack said.   
  
“One time-”   
  
“Twice-”   
  
Ianto held up his hands quickly, “will you two please just give it a rest? Look, there's something else I wanted to add. About the cryogenics system. Gray's body still hasn't been found so it won't have been caught up in this. But I can't guarantee his unit is still working, there's been a lot of damage...”   
  
Jack nodded slowly, a sad smile playing over his lips. “Thanks. I'm still amazed you're able to dig anything out at all, sounds like you've been doing a hell of a job.”   
  
Nodding, Ianto smiled and extended his hand, helping Jack to his feet whilst John stood up too. “Thanks, we've done our best. Speaking of which, Jack, UNIT, don't know you're back in town yet, and considering how they usually feel about you-”   
  
“It was one time-”   
  
“I want you to stay quiet on the call. If you want something, write it down.”   
  
“If you'd like, I can gag him?” John offered happily, pulling a red and black ball gag out of his pocket. Ianto and Jack just stared at him in bemusement.   
  
“I do not want to know why you are carrying that around,” Ianto said.   
  
“Oh come on Eye Candy, don't you remember? Look,” John said, pointing to the ball with an evil grin, “I think those teeth marks there are yours-”   
  
This time, when Jack swung to punch John, Ianto didn't bother stopping him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Things have changed for me, and that's okay, I feel the same"  
> Panic! at the Disco

Ianto sat down at the head of the table and looked around his team slowly. Jack sat on his right, his coat missing for now, but even in his simple light blue shirt, the neck of his t-shirt showing through under his open collar as always, he was still almost over dressed compared to some at the table. Lois was to Ianto's left, her purple top and black trousers the epitome of 'smart casual' as she waited, patient, but alert and ready to assist with anything he needed, and already his most valuable asset; Ianto had started to wonder what he had ever done without her.   
  
Johnson sat beyond Jack, her team forming an unbroken line of black, stretching down one whole side of the table. Ianto wondered sometimes whether, instead of sitting next to Johnson, John deliberately sat away from them just so that he didn't disrupt the colour scheme. Instead of joining them, John was opposite them and had placed himself next to Lois, his splash of red bold in the room, his jacket ever present, which, considering what was underneath it, Ianto was very grateful for.   
  
Cassie had found a place beside him, her strong blue top clashing with John's red and creating a vibrant hum of colour along that side of the table when paired with John and Lois. They were joined by the technicians, their more civilian team covering the other long side and facing off against the soldiers. If Lois erred on the side of smart in 'smart casual', the technicians definitely made up for it on the casual side; a hodgepodge of clothing and sartorial choices made the rest of their fledgling team a blur of colours and looks, and yet, somehow, there was something in an effortless blend in their fashions that still marked the technicians as simply 'students'.  
  
The chairs around the table were full and the few latecomers who hadn't been able to get seats were dotted around the edges of the room, most of the technicians fiddling with iPads or similar whilst the soldiers simply sat still, observing and waiting.  
  
The conference room with its huge table, a vast oval expanse of dark wood dominating the space, had seemed a bit of an extravagance when they had first been deciding how to use the office space. He had always felt the ones they had had in the Hub had been a bit wasted on such a small team, but Ianto was glad now that Gwen had insisted on it. There was something about having the ability to talk to everyone at once, and share things openly, that added an air of authority and seriousness that tended to calm down the more excitable members of his young team.  
  
He could but hope it would do the same for the oldest one too.  
  
Ianto glanced at Jack with something approaching trepidation but hid it quickly, all too aware of the keen eyes of some of his staff members, and took a deep breath. Reaching out, he fiddled with the speaker and microphone unit for the call, accessing the secure connection quickly, and glancing down the other end of the table. A similar unit was set up there too but only a speaker, no microphone. Whilst the technicians needed to hear the call, they didn't need to contribute directly, not whilst the Colonel was on the line anyway.  
  
“Before we begin, I want to let you know we will have a couple of extra specialists helping us out on this case. Cassie and Jack,” he indicated them both in turn, “have both worked for Torchwood in the past but are here as civilian help. Cassie has been working in the US and Jack has been, uh, consulting abroad for a while. I expect you to treat them both as you would me and assist them in any way they need.” Catching John opening his mouth, and the look of mischief on his face, Ianto held up a hand in warning and cut him off. “They both have full clearance so there are no security concerns, tell them whatever they need to know.”  
  
“However,” he added quickly, “I would appreciate it if you kept their arrival within the team for now and don't use their names on the call.” Smiling a little at the curious looks, Ianto shrugged. “Jack owes money to a few people, including a few people at UNIT, and you know how annoyed Gwen gets about that sort of thing.” A polite murmur of chuckles and greetings whispered round the room. Ianto glanced sideways at Jack and whispered under his breath to him. “Discreet enough?”  
  
“Perfect,” Jack whispered back under cover of various greetings from around the table.  
  
“Speaking of Gwen, you can't hide forever, she will find out you're back and you are going to have to face her sooner or later you know.”  
  
“Don't remind me,” Jack sighed.   
  
With one last quick grin before signing in to the conference call, Ianto nodded and looked down the table.   
  
“Right, I suppose we'd better get started. A UNIT Colonel will be dialling in shortly to brief us on an issue regarding our collaboration with UNIT and specifically Dr Reed. For anyone who doesn't already know, from what we've been able to determine from the analysis of the explosion at the Hub it looks as though Dr Reed led a team of what appeared to be UNIT technicians down into the alien morgue and attempted to retrieve a very valuable and highly unstable alien corpse. Unfortunately, it was so unstable it exploded, damaging the access routes down to the archives and morgue and messing up the central Hub yet again.”  
  
Ianto paused and looked round the team slowly. “There are no indications anyone survived the initial blast and the explosion breached the barrier into the bay in that section, flooding it and triggering an automatic lockdown.” Placing a hand flat on the table, he stared down each and every member of the team, trying to gauge their reactions and looking for anything to suggest they might be part of whatever this was. To his right, he could see Cassie watching closely, her dark eyes flicking from person to person discreetly.  
  
“Anyone who would have survived the blast would have been trapped in a flooding section and have drowned instead. As a reminder, boys and girls, if you find yourself in a section and the bay breaches it, you have only a few seconds before the sensors lock it down to get out. If you are planning to do anything stupid down in the bay floor sections, I suggest you practice your sprinting first or learn how to breathe underwater.”  
  
A few nervous chuckles from the technicians, stony faces from the soldiers and bored indifference greeted him and he tried to stay relaxed and not read too much into any of it. Was that look just boredom or was it arrogance, a secret held, knowing that when the time was right they would strike-  
  
Paranoia could be a killer.  
  
Watching the box, he saw the signal flick on to indicate the Colonel was dialling in and put one finger to his lips to still the few lingering whispers from the other end of the table. Silent at last, it was time to begin.  
  
“Good morning Colonel, we're all here and ready when you want to tell my team what the situation is.”  
  
There was a sound of shifting papers on the line as the Colonel got to work and Ianto leaned back in his chair, watching his team closely.  
  
 _”I'll get straight to the point. As you know, when you began removing bodies from the cryogenics chambers you asked us to help store them and we were happy to oblige. At the last count, we have over a hundred different species and remains stored in a safe facility.”_  
  
Ianto nodded in spite of the phone call, glancing to Lois. “That's right.”  
  
“One hundred and fifty two at the last count.” Lois added.  
  
 _“That's the problem we've got. Our computer records say 152 too, but we did a manual stock count after the incident on Monday and only found one hundred and thirty one. We've lost twenty one bodies.”_  
  
“Wait a minute,” Johnson interrupted, “how do you lose twenty one bodies? Are you saying they defrosted?”  
  
 _“From what we can work out, we didn't lose them, we didn't even get them. Some time after leaving Torchwood twenty one bodies were diverted and never made it to UNIT. We've been hearing rumours for a while of... trophy hunters, wanting to collect alien corpses, private groups collecting alien artefacts, but they have usually been small time like your Mr Parker.”_  
  
“Or state sanctioned like the Pharm,” Ianto added coldly.  
  
 _“Your state, not mine, Mr Jones. But overall, they've mostly been harmless. We know of a few missing pieces of interest, someone got away with debris from the Slitheen incident, something crashed in the Ascension islands fifty odd years ago, a Dogon sixth eye turned up on eBay at one point-”_  
  
Ianto nudged Jack to keep him quiet as he spotted him smile and lean forward as though to speak. Taking the hint, Jack closed his mouth again and sat back, but Ianto couldn't help feeling Jack's knee brush against his as he took advantage of the move to shift closer.  
  
 _“-a Sontaran helmet, the usual. But it would seem someone has upped the stakes and started infiltrating UNIT and other agencies to try and skim off some of the more prize specimens for themselves.”_  
  
“So Reed  _was_  definitely after the Calmani body after all.” Ianto sighed and shook his head. “Shame he didn't do his reading first, their species are very fragile on Earth due to a dangerous reaction to water. Too much moisture in the environment and they explode. Martha was in the process of drying out that section so it would be safe to move it, but Reed decided to rush things and-”  
  
“Boom.” Lois finished absently, before blushing and realising she had been loud enough to be heard.  
  
“So, Colonel,” Ianto said with a small smile at her, “have you been able to identify which bodies are missing yet?”  
  
 _“Not all of them but we do have two that are causing us concern, both from your watch.”_  Ianto felt Jack's thigh brush against his, just brushing lightly but speaking volumes. There was no sense of a come on or proposition, but rather an instinctive need for company and support, the move one of the closest Jack ever got to admitting that he needed someone. Ianto had only worked here for a few years, had only written up the paperwork and slid those drawers closed a few times really, but there was no telling how many bodies there were in those depths that Captain Jack Harkness had put there personally – in one way or another.  
  
Ianto was suddenly very glad that they had broken protocol and chosen to honour Tosh's wishes for a proper funeral rather than consigning her to a drawer too. At least their friend would rest in peace. And it couldn't be Gray as he hadn't been found yet. Suzie would be an interesting one to deal with, if only to see if anyone noticed that she had been killed more times than Rasputin.  
  
 _“One... Invincible vampire? No official name is given.”_  
  
“We never had one,” Ianto explained quickly, “Owen came up with the Invincible Vampire bit. I hope they haven't defrosted it or they will certainly have their hands full.”  
  
 _“Hence our concern. We also have one female of Cell 114. This specimen is causing us most worry-”_  
  
“Beth,” Jack interrupted angrily.   
  
Ianto quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, quieting him as he quickly took over, jumping in before the colonel could notice the extra voice. Making his voice match Jack's as best he could for a few seconds, Ianto hoped it would be enough to make the lapse not stand out.  
  
“She is not a specimen or some creature,” he said quickly, concentrating on every syllable, “her name was Beth. She sacrificed herself for us and I do not appreciate your tone. Colonel, those vaults are not only for interesting creatures. You must be aware of Torchwood personnel policies; we have friends in there.” Ianto took a deep breath, steadying himself and letting the impersonation fade again, hoping it was subtle enough to not be too obvious.  
  
 _“I'm sorry, my list only contains species information.”_  The Colonel paused, a hesitation in his voice showing the lie.  _“I'm sorry.”_  
  
Taking a deep breath, Ianto shook his head. “Thanks. So, do you have any leads?”  
  
 _“Some. Based on the power supply in the transfer units and the time they would have taken to transfer them from our vehicles without being noticed, they must be within an hour of Cardiff. So we're looking at Bristol, through the Beacons and round.”_  
  
“What about the coast?” Johnson asked, leaning forward slightly. “A coastal extraction would allow the bodies to be transferred almost anywhere, assuming they had an adequate power supply on board.”  
  
“Unlikely,” one of the technicians volunteered, his skinny hand rising uncertainly in his lab coat, his baby face making him look like a school child as Ianto nodded to him to continue. “Tim Adams, I work with the technology and stuff” he continued, identifying himself for the call and strangers in the room, his American accent subtle and not really noticeable compared to the Colonel. “The power supply for the unit's alien and drains a shitlo- Uh, a lot of power. That's why we thought the units were knocked out in the initial blast. From what we worked out from the original schematics they get power from the water in the bay itself-”  
  
Ianto glanced to his right as Jack scribbled something on a pad, his hand sliding across the page and letting Ianto alone see what he had written.  _Alien tech, Hydrogen fuel extraction from the sea itself, generators are on the sea bed out by Penarth, brilliant stuff, don't let UNIT get their hands on it!!!_  As soon as Jack was sure Ianto had seen, he began scribbling and doodling over it again, removing the evidence as Tim continued.  
  
“-probably tidal or something, but it's pretty much an endless power supply. Soon as we disconnect the units from it, they enter this like pre defrost cycle and the power needed to keep them frozen is...” he gestured with his hands, holding them high up above his head before quickly pulling them down again, “huge. So far only the UNIT storage facility's been able to cope with it and that's only by draining a lot of power off the local grid. A ship just couldn't handle that kind of drain, not with Earth Tech anyway, 'sides, if they're using some sort of alien form of Duracell, all bets are off.”  
  
“Okay, so if they want to keep them frozen, they need to plug them back in to a big power supply quickly. But what if they don't care about keeping them preserved?” As faces turned to look at Johnson curiously, she shrugged. “If I'm taking a body just for dissection it really doesn't matter if it's frozen or oven fresh, it all ends up the same way.”  
  
At a few grimaces from the technicians, Ianto winced. “Johnson has a good point, how do we know they actually want to keep the stasis chambers running and aren't simply transferring them to their own storage or letting them defrost?”  
  
 _”We've received intelligence that suggests this is a trophy collector, not just a researcher. It's not just the bodies from your collection that have gone missing lately. We've got alien tech, pieces of spaceship, odd fragments, even things with no technological value like samples of alien writing going missing.”_  
  
Ianto looked out of the corner of his eye as Jack scribbled again, a large question mark catching Ianto's eye.  _You got a list?_  
  
Nudging Lois, Ianto pointed to Jack's note and she nodded quickly, digging through the file to her right and sliding a sheet of paper across the table to Jack.  
  
 _“There doesn't seem to be any one species or technological aspect being targeted, it's random, so from what we can tell it looks like trophy hunters, some sort of collector or group that's somehow managed to compromise our security.”_  
  
“So let me get this straight,” Johnson spoke up again, summarising in her own succinct way and not even bothering to try and hide her dislike of UNIT. “Somebody has managed to infiltrate UNIT, divert secure transports and steal their contents without even being noticed by you, steal the remains of this Beth and God knows who else so they can what? Put them in a trophy cabinet? Use them as a modern art centrepiece in the lobby of their evil empire's HQ?” Ianto could hear the sharpness in her voice and was grateful he wasn't on the receiving end.   
  
 _”That... is essentially correct,”_  the Colonel begrudgingly admitted.  _“We suspect it is a local collector, someone who maybe either knows about the rift or has simply been exploiting the influx of fresh tech into the area since you lot lost control of the thing last year-”_   
  
Ianto couldn't miss the glare Jack shot Johnson, fighting back the urge to say something about exactly how they had lost the rift manipulator in the first place.  
  
 _”-or even an existing collector who relocated after you all went public and turned Cardiff into the next Area 51.”_  A slight cough came over the line before he continued.  _“Incidentally, my colleagues there are quite grateful for that, it takes the pressure off of them, they've managed to more than double their flight tests and they have said any time you want to visit you're more than welcome to stop by.”_  
  
A few chuckles and laughs rolled around the table with some of the technicians grinning openly and whispering to each other, either taking it as a joke or seriously considering the trip. However, a couple of others simply sat still with knowing smiles that hinted at a more personal acquaintance with the legendary site.   
  
The Mr Copper foundation didn't restrict its interns to just Torchwood after all.  
  
“Thank you Colonel, we may take you up on that,” Ianto said, wanting to draw this to a close at a small nod from Cassie. She had seen all she could for now, the call had served its purpose; now it was time to get to work. “Right now, we have a trophy hunter to find and alien tech to recapture and find a safe home for before someone presses the wrong button and we end up losing the Isle of Wight. Again.”   
  
John sniggered before forcing his face into a more serious expression.   
  
“Thank you for your help Colonel, I'll be in touch to keep you up to date, but from here on in Torchwood will handle this alone.”  
  
 _”Understood. Good luck Torchwood.”_  A soft beep marked the Colonel leaving the line, the call over at last. Letting out a deep breath, blowing out the tension he always felt when dealing with other agencies, Ianto nodded to his team.  
  
“Right, assignments. We're handling this as a treasure hunt and attacking both the artefact and the people angles. Xenobiology and medical teams,” Ianto said quickly, glancing down the table at the relevant technicians, “Sarah, I want a complete analysis of the list of stolen bodies, any hazards, particular selling points, whatever it might be that this collector is interested in and any problems we might have getting them back. Especially if they weren't actually dead in the first place and might have been woken up.”  
  
Turning to the notes he had made through the meeting and earlier, Ianto assessed the small lines of shorthand on his page. “Technology teams, same for any missing artefacts we know about, likely buyers, typical hot spots for finds, junk shops, the usual trawl. Dave,” Ianto added, finding a particular young man in a dark t-shirt proclaiming 'I'm not ignoring you, your comment is awaiting moderation' and looking like he had just rolled out of bed. “Social networks, find me the gossip and see if your little friends can offer any clues.”  
  
“Johnson, looks like we need to be prepared to take on a human threat, but without knowing how they've been storing the bodies be prepared to use lethal force against aliens too. If you can avoid wiping out everyone and everything in a three mile radius though, I'd appreciate it. Jack will be on your team. As soon as we have a target, I want a full tactical assault planned. Until then, I suggest your team gets some rest before blackout patrols tonight, I'll need you fresh.”  
  
“Lois, you, me, John and Cassie will be co-ordinating the results and overseeing the general strategy. Lois, I'll need your help with archives in particular, Cassie and John, any profiling info we can unearth and so on. Section leaders, I want updates every hour.”  
  
“Everyone else, I want full archive and databases searches, any history on these artefacts, any clues or hints in the records that might help us at all, plus anything you've got on the go that might help. No consulting outside agencies though, that means no chatting with buddies at UNIT or back at the foundation.” He held up a hand quickly to forestall any complaints. “Just until we know what we're dealing with and who might be involved. Loose lips sink ships and all that.” Nodding to the team, Ianto pushed back from the table and grabbed his pad from the table.  
  
“Any questions?”   
  
“We getting paid overtime for this?” a cheeky voice piped up from the back and Ianto laughed.  
  
“Nope, just standard rates for your usual hours and the satisfaction of a job well done, but we will be ordering in food.” A few cheers echoed round the room, making him chuckle. “Staying later than your shift is not compulsory, especially as it's a blackout night, I want you all out of here by ten anyway so we've only got about six hours tonight. If anyone has somewhere they really gotta be its no problem, just let Lois know. I know a couple of you have exams coming up-”  
  
He tried to ignore Jack scribbling again, glancing out of the corner of his eye and catching the words  _Please tell me they don't actually have school tomorrow too?_   
  
“-so it's fine if you have to go.” He kicked Jack's ankle and looked around the room once more, making certain they were ready. He smiled slightly at the eager expressions of the technicians, up for a challenge, and the grim determination of the soldiers and the reassuring presence of Lois, her notes and files flying through her fingers as she prepared. His team was ready. “Then let's go.”  
  
  
**************************************** ***********  
  
Jack followed Ianto into his office without speaking and pulled the door closed, ignoring the faint smell of alcohol in the air and writing it off as some overzealous new cleaning product. Ianto ignored the intrusion and instead motioned to the chair opposite the desk even as he swung his way into his own chair behind it. Jack hesitated, the unfamiliar dynamic throwing him, then reluctantly sat down, opting to try to look as casual as possible in the flimsy chair and crossing his legs.  
  
He felt ridiculous.  
  
Giving up, he shifted to place his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward, staring at Ianto. “So, that's the official story, what is she really doing here?”  
  
“ _She_  has a name,” Ianto snapped tiredly.  
  
“Cassie, right, although, you know, she really doesn't look like a Cassie. I knew a Cassie once, hell of a dancer-”  
  
“Jack, you know who she is.”  
  
“Yeah, but it was a long time ago, it's not like I memorised everyone's new name and history-”  
  
“Just mine?”  
  
“I looked you up, that's different.”  
  
“Fine.” Ianto leaned back in his chair and rested the side of his hand against the warm wood of his desk, tapping his fingers against it in a gesture that would be a sign of nervousness in some people but Jack recognised as being just a way of focusing his thoughts. “Her current name is Cassie, she chose it during her relocation. She used to work at Torchwood One and I came to know her very well.”  
  
“Work or personal?”  
  
“Both,” Ianto admitted. “We had the same therapist after... afterwards.”  
  
“Oh,” Jack said, then his face clouded a little at the memory of ordering all the survivors into the therapy groups, whether they wanted it or not. It had been hard and Owen had spoken of the close bonds the survivors had formed before they had to separate for their own safety – and because of Jack's own rules banning them from seeing each other again or risk losing their pensions. “Oh...”  
  
“We used to sometimes take part in the same group sessions, there's nothing quite like facing the end of the world to bring people together.”  
  
Jack gave a begrudging smile and nodded. “Point taken. So, you haven't seen her since then,” he caught the faintest flicker of guilt on Ianto's face and chose to ignore it for now, “what did you call her in for?”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Ianto looked at Jack seriously. “Cassie was in Psy division.”  
  
“She's a psychic?” Jack asked quietly, leaning back in his chair in surprise. “I didn't think Torchwood One actually had anyone strong enough to really count?”  
  
“Did you ever check?” Shrugging, Ianto got up from his chair and looked out the window overlooking the city, his hands on his hips as he tried to remember that time in his life, before Cardiff, before Jack.  
  
Before he finally lost Lisa.  
  
“Cassie is low level, they thought she might be an empath, she had definite potential. She got a decent score on the tests but when they got closer turned out it wasn't just psych related, although she did fine with the basic training, but she can tell if someone is lying.” Turning to face Jack again, Ianto smiled. “It wasn't like  _that_  with me and Cassie, Jack, she knew all about Lisa. She spotted my lies straight away. Cassie and I grew close because...” he hesitated, that flash of guilt showing up again. “It wasn't just that you missed me lying to you when I first came here Jack. I was taught some skills to hide my feelings by a true master.”  
  
“Ianto, no offence, but you're still a lousy liar.”  
  
“Yes, but you should have seen me before. I used to lose an absolute fortune playing poker,” he deadpanned and Jack laughed. “The way she describes it, she can read these...” Ianto frowned trying to remember the words for it. “It's like, flashes, microseconds of emotion that show on our face. They're hard to spot, but she can see them and read them and just knows.”  
  
“And the scar?” Jack asked, all humour fading again.  
  
Ianto shivered in the warmth of his office at the memory of the machines and the blood... “She was in the conversion chamber when the Cybermen were being sucked back into hell. The blade stopped but it was already in her neck and forehead, she literally couldn't move, couldn't escape until the search teams found her. If she'd pulled back even a centimetre she could have bled to death. As it was, the conversion equipment had taken enough control to keep her alive until...” Ianto hesitated. “Owen would've been better at explaining it.”  
  
“He didn't like to talk about what he saw at Canary Wharf,” Jack said simply. “Took him a while to get over it.”  
  
“Didn't we all.” Tapping the desk, Ianto sat back down again, almost as though physically pushing the memory away, using the objects around him to ground him in the present and deny the past its power over him. “Anyway, she is very good at spotting lies, deception, identifying emotions, that sort of thing. It took her a while to recover from Canary Wharf, but she's back on her feet and working with this civilian consultancy group in the States. They do contract work for other agencies, including UNIT, and her security clearance is still active so I'm hoping she might be able to help us with this problem we have.”  
  
“Let's just hope she's better at spotting people with big secrets than I am,” Jack said quietly, Ianto acknowledging the dig at his own past deception with good grace. “So, we have a spycatcher in our midst. Hope you warned her about John at least?”  
  
Laughing, Ianto nodded. “Actually yes, and thanks to the CIA she already knows about you-”  
  
“Now that's always an ominous statement-”  
  
“But for now, only you and I and John know what she's really here for. Not even Lois. I want to believe she couldn't be a part of this but she was in jail for a long time before we were in a position to get her out and...” Jack nodded.  
  
“Sometimes just wanting it to be the truth isn't enough. You need to be sure.”  
  
Pushing back from the table, Ianto gestured to the door before heading over to it. “We should get going, I want to introduce you and Cassie to the team anyway, and I don't want to leave Cassie with John for too long.”  
  
“A woman who knows exactly what he's thinking?” Shaking his head quickly, Jack stood and followed Ianto to the door. “Either she'd go crazy or she'd kill him.” Hesitating, Jack placed his hand flat against the door, stopping Ianto from opening it. “Maybe we should wait a bit longer-”  
  
“Jack...”  
  
“Oh by the way, that reminds me, meant to ask earlier, what's a blackout night?”  
  
It was Ianto's turn to hesitate, leaning back against the wall beside the door. “Martha never mentioned it?” As Jack shook his head, Ianto shrugged and looked out over the city view from his window. “You remember when Owen... When we lost the power station, the other stations upped their output to keep us going, non essential power use was discouraged, all that?” Jack nodded. “Well, we ran out of time. One of the other stations has been running close to capacity for over a year and they finally had to scale it back, but the new one won't be online for a few months yet. So, blackout night.”  
  
“Scheduled power outages?”  
  
“Yeah, they never go near the essential services, hospital, server buildings, police, the usual, but everywhere else gets two blackout nights a week.” He nodded to the power sockets on the wall and Jack finally noticed that they were different to the usual ones, one red and one white showing on the wall. “We've got our own generators, plus we did a deal with the power company, so we have a safe line for essential stuff as some of the experiments are pretty fragile. But it's a very finite supply, besides, we try to do our bit, if it's not an emergency we shut down before the outage hits and have an early night. Not to mention, some of the kids still don't know the city that well, I like to make sure they can get home before it's too bad.”  
  
“The kids.” Jack laughed, shaking his head slightly. “They're so young, seriously, where did you get them, Cardiff Comp? Or drinking cheap cider in the park?”  
  
“Those kids,” Ianto pointed out, “are at least 21, they are, as John keeps reminding me, more than legal and I should add they're about the same age I was when I started at Torchwood.”  
  
“Yeah but you... Were advanced for your age.”  
  
Ianto laughed. “No, you're just a cradle snatcher.”  
  
“Hey, you were not  _that_  young when you joined Torchwood, you were...” Jack stopped, working it out and a look of 'oh' came onto his face. “Twenty-two.”  
  
“Twenty-two.” Ianto confirmed. “Not exactly a child. And neither are they. Some are still at University but they are post grads, we even have a few doctoral students here. They're very bright.” He smiled begrudgingly. “Not always very street smart though.”  
  
“I bet John is like a kid in a candy store...” Jack muttered.  
  
“Oh please, he's on the induction talk. Don't go through Butetown at night, don't eat the kebabs from the vans until you have acclimatised to the shop ones first, don't feed the seagulls, and don't shag John.”  
  
“All good rules,” Jack admitted. “So, how many of those do you stick to?”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Ianto pushed Jack aside to get to the door again. “Don't start. Oh, speaking of him, why did John make you think of the blackout?”  
  
“Huh? Oh that!” Jack chuckled. “I was picturing him with another nice big black eye from Cassie...”  
  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
Dave Davies, or DoubleD as he was known to the outside world, glanced up from his work at the sound of voices entering the small office he shared with the other computer expert. He was frowning at the distraction, and about to tell someone off for disturbing the peace and quiet, when he realised who it was and quickly stopped.   
  
The one person you didn't yell at in this place was the boss. not if you wanted to carry on working there anyway. And Dave really, really wanted to carry on working here. It wasn't everyday you found a job that paid well, had a great pension scheme, private healthcare and the chance to play with the most sophisticated technology in the world – quite literally.  
  
Pushing back from his keyboard, he resisted the urge to close the browsers on the three monitors on his desk, the habit of a lifetime hard to shake even though he was now being paid to do the things that his last boss considered “goofing off.” Forcing a smile onto his face, he looked up at Ianto and nodded as he was introduced to Jack and Cassie.  
  
“And this is Dave, we picked him up after we caught him trying to hack into our servers, he was running an online conspiracy theory site that had accidentally managed to piece together far too much information -” Dave grinned more genuinely as a small smile lit up his boss' face. “-and he was also head of our fan club for a while.”  
  
“We have a fan club?” The newcomer, the one they had introduced as Jack, but he had heard one of the soldiers refer to as 'yet another Captain', was smiling incredulously, looking very pleased with the idea.  
  
“The downside of going public,” Ianto explained, “suddenly everyone thinks it would be cool to work for a secret alien fighting organisation and that every suspicious neighbour is actually an alien in disguise.” Placing a hand on Dave's shoulder, Ianto gave it a small squeeze and Dave could have sworn he saw a slight tightening around the newcomer's eyes at the sight. “Dave here was effectively a ringleader for all the crazies-”  
  
“Hey,” Dave objected, shaking the hand off in mock annoyance. “We are not crazy, crazy is believing in something that doesn't exist; Torchwood is real, aliens are real, and you know what, sometimes the suspicious guy next door really is hiding something.”  
  
“Sorry, vigilant types, you were the king of the vigilant types,” Ianto said, rolling his eyes a little. “So, rather than try to shut him down-”  
  
“You hired him,” Jack said with a laugh. “Nicely played. So, you shut down the conspiracy sites from within?”  
  
“Shut them down?” Dave asked in surprise. “No way, we're still as active as ever.” Turning back to his screens, he flicked through various social networking and information sites, a blur of data and pictures flashing over his monitors. “We have presences on twitter, livejournal, tumblr, myspace, dreamwidth, facebook, youtube, googleplus, pretty much if it exists, and people use it, we watch it.”  
  
Jack leaned in to watch over his shoulder and shrugged. “I don't get it, why?”   
  
Shaking his head, Dave muttered something disparaging about old fogies under his breath and couldn't understand why Ianto burst out laughing, quickly placing a hand over his mouth to stop himself. Even the woman seemed a little amused, a tiny smile lifting up the corners of her mouth as she moved round the desk, her attention drawn by the cartoons and pictures stuck over every inch of the divider that gave him some privacy in the room.  
  
“Look,” he explained with an air of exasperation, “nowadays most things that happen don't go unobserved, there is always someone with a camera phone nearby. You can pull the evidence off of the internet from one site if you are fast enough but as soon as it goes viral, you've lost control. If it's the only exciting thing out there, it's gonna stand out and draw attention-”  
  
“But if you encourage hundreds of similar claims, especially genuine fakes, you can hide it in plain sight,” Jack said, admiration in his voice. “Like a sleight of hand, you distract their attention one way and pocket the real card.”  
  
“And if you filter through the rubbish properly, you can still find the occasional diamond. That computer system you've got here, it's beyond cool, I swear it's almost alive-”  
  
“She is,” Jack breathed quietly, almost missed by Dave, but he was all too aware when Cassie turned to lean casually against the divider, her eyes suddenly locked onto their faces. Dividing his attention between the two, he carried on.  
  
“The way you can program it, and some of the programs that are already in the system that some chick wrote-” he was surprised at the look of pure venom Jack shot him at the words, and was nervous as Ianto put a hand on Jack's shoulder to calm him down, shrinking back into his seat. “I didn't mean any offence, I'm serious, they are just awesome, I mean, wow, I can do some coding but that stuff is just... it's more like art than programming. I mean some of the filtering is just... it's unbelievable.”  
  
Jack still looked a little angry and Dave almost lost his nerve, his voice speeding up as he desperately tried to make amends. “I don't know her name, but she was brilliant, I just, I mean, look!”  
  
Calling up his main monitoring program, he barely blinked at the scrolling lists on the screen, the sight all too familiar to him and his eyes easily adapting to pull out the results he needed. “I was able to adapt a program that was already in the system to check eBay listings for anything useful and expand on it to do a similar job on other sites. It cross references likely posts, specific key words and so on, and compares them to the Torchwood Archives looking for hits.”  
  
“So far,” Ianto interrupted, drawing their gazes, “Dave's managed to find a rogue nest of Weevils over in Bristol, an abandoned Torchwood storehouse in Greenwich that we'd lost the records for, and a Hoix that was eating sheep up in Gloucestershire. That's just by trawling the information that people already volunteered. But, it also works the other way.”  
  
Dave grinned nervously and spun round in his chair to face them properly, slowly gaining confidence again as he got into his topic. “Being king of the Vigilant means I can use my 'confidential sources' to excite the crowds and get them looking for something specific. Last month, a ship was picked up entering our airspace over the Channel near Bournemouth but we lost sight of it before it landed. I posted a rumour about a UFO sighting in Cornwall and had loads of reports of lights along the west coast but only a couple along the east coast. They were almost lost in the crowd but we were able to use the reports to triangulate an exact landing site for the craft. UNIT got down there, found the craft and were able to persuade the occupants to leave.”  
  
“Anyone I might know?” Jack asked, looking at Ianto.  
  
“Just tourists,” Ianto explained, “they had a little engine trouble so landed instead of just sightseeing. Other than a couple of cattle mutilations - they stopped for lunch too - it was pretty benign. UNIT traded them some language databases for spare parts, warned them against visiting again, and sent them on their way.”  
  
“Yeah, you gotta be careful with sightseeing,” Jack grinned, “I remember one time, we were flying over Caltham 6 and nearly crashed into -” Dave caught the small shake of Ianto's head that stopped Jack short and wondered what exactly he had been about to say. Not to mention where on Earth Caltham 6 was. Must be some kind of military base. “Never mind. So, you're the guy to go to for any internet stuff then?”  
  
“Except the really good porn and anything that actually requires skills,” a new voice piped up and Dave spun round to glare through the small gap between his monitors at his 'roommate' in the office. He had been wondering when she would stick her nose in...  
  
**************************************** ******  
  
Jack looked round as Ianto smiled slightly at Dave's discomfort. Ianto gestured to Dave's colleague as she stood up so she could be seen over the divider. “Jack, Cassie, this is our computer expert, Lila. She takes care of the Torchwood servers and all that involves, which keeps her busy pretty much 24/7.”  
  
“Hi.” Jack held out his hand as she leaned forward and shook it, her smile polite but her eyes flicking past him to Cassie, just noticeably, his charm on full but not seeming to affect her.  
  
“Hi,” Lila echoed, barely really directing it at him before she let go of his hand and moved out from behind the desk to approach Cassie, smiling more broadly as she offered her hand this time. “Hello. I'm Lila.”  
  
“Hello Lila,” Cassie said with a smile, “it's a lovely name.” Jack was surprised to see a faint blush on Lila's cheeks and smiled to himself as he looked her over properly.   
  
Lila was slightly older than most of the student technicians in the outer office, maybe slightly closer to thirty than twenty, and she lacked the gangly skinniness of some of the girls. She wasn't what he would call conventionally beautiful, her face slightly too round and her eyes were a muddy colour rather than the sort that painters would strive to capture. Her hair was cropped short and messy, a pair of square framed glasses perched on top of the purple tinted black spikes hinting at long hours spent at her monitor.   
  
Her curves were barely contained within a low cut top proclaiming her love for some band, or maybe even a TV show, something Jack had never heard of before, and her indigo dyed jeans had a rip over one knee that looked more accidental than designer, the slight silver of a healed scar peeking through the gash. She was older than most of the new team seemed to be, but she had an easy confidence to her that complemented her larger than fashionable frame, not the forced bubbliness of a worried overweight woman but the gentle humour of a woman at ease in her own skin, a rare phenomenon in someone her age.  
  
Jack found himself reminded of Gwen, even though the two women looked nothing alike, but in his mind it was the flaws they had that added to their beauty far more than any perfections.   
  
Gwen. He really had to go see her soon. Jack had thought leaving would be hard; he had never given much thought to how hard coming back would be too...  
  
He wasn't listening to the conversation, lost in thought, but suddenly tuned back in again at the sound of Cassie laughing, a surprised and delighted sound.   
  
“Really?” she exclaimed.  
  
Lila shrugged, and Jack noticed she was still holding Cassie's hand, even though the handshake should really have finished ages ago. “Yep, huge Tom Jones fans. My big brother and sister are Tom and Joan, so I got Delilah. I still say they got the better deal.”  
  
“So they called you Lila for short?”  
  
“Oh God no,” Lila shook her head quickly, “my family called me Dee, but to me Dee is this little beach ball of a kid who still breaks out in a cold sweat when she hears 'why, why, why...' and used to be sat on by her brother. But Lila,” she grinned wickedly, “Lila can kick his arse. Besides,” she added as an afterthought, “names have power. I'd rather have one I've chosen and made my own than one given to me, makes the power mine, you know?”  
  
Jack couldn't help glancing at John, a knowing look flashing between them as both Captains smiled just a little. They understood all too well.  
  
He looked back as Cassie let go of Lila's hand, an odd look on her face and her smile more polite than as friendly as it had been. “Anyway, we should let you get back to work, but it was lovely to meet you both.”  
  
“You too,” Lila said softly, sinking back onto her chair and watching Cassie oddly, as though trying to work out if she had done something wrong.  
  
At Ianto's nod, Jack and the others followed him out of the small office, grouping outside as he pulled the door closed. “So, she's Tosh's replacement?” Jack asked quietly, not quite able to say the words, but somehow getting the feeling his old friend would have approved.  
  
“One of them, yes,” Ianto admitted. “We never really realised just how much Tosh did, to be honest I've had to hire four people just to keep up with the sort of things she used to do. Lila handles the proper programming and keeping the server systems happy, Dave does the hacking and general tracing she used to do, for machinery, there's this American kid, Tim, and the physicist, uh...”  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, Ianto concentrated, a look Jack recognised all too well. “Richard, he has a grasp for experimental physics that almost comes up to her understanding of the rift.”  
  
“Unlike you to forget a name.”  
  
“It's been a busy week and Lois handles a lot of the personnel matters for me, Gwen used to do all the hiring. Besides,” Ianto admitted with a small smile, “he doesn't look like a Richard and most people call him Sparkles.”  
  
“Sparkles?”  
  
“He looks like one of those gormless actors from the sparkly vampire movies,” John explained, “seriously, with virgin vampires as sex symbols it's no wonder this century is so bloody frigid.”  
  
“Sparkly vampire movies?” Jack said, confused.  
  
“Never mind,” Ianto hastily waved it off, leading them around the room again. “Anyway, Richard handles some of the physics and maths side of the gap Tosh left, and we spread the work around the other four.”  
  
“Four.” Jack smiled to himself, a melancholy look on his face. “She really should've asked for a raise.”  
  
“She was happy as she was,” Ianto said quietly, his gaze locked onto Jack and a sadness to his eyes that made Jack want to just reach out to him, pull him close and-  
  
Instead, Ianto clapped his hands together then pointed to the workstations in the outer office. “Right, shall we carry on?” Weaving his way through the stools and desks, Ianto brought them to a simple flat counter covered in small objects and a young woman in gloves working her way through them and sorting them into groups.   
  
“And this is Debs, she's our resident Archaeologist.”  
  
Holding out her white clad hand, Debs stood up from her stool at the workbench and smiled at Jack winningly. “Nice to meet you sir.” Jack shook her hand, ignoring the slight look Ianto gave him as he grinned back at the young woman, her warm welcome a complete contrast to the dismissive attitude of Lila. She was maybe in her early twenties, her long dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail as she worked and her jeans and white t-shirt hid rather than enhanced her figure, but her too big glasses didn't quite hide the inviting depths of her brown eyes. Jack was suddenly reminded of those old movie clichés, where she would undo her hair and take off her glasses and the guy would gasp, 'my, but you are beautiful dear Debs...'  
  
“You too, Debs...?”  
  
“Reynolds. Deborah Reynolds. Never Debbie,” she added, and Jack nodded, but couldn't help thinking that she even looked like the actress, and couldn't help picturing her in a little 1920's outfit and a wet rainy street...  
  
By the look John shot him, Jack realised he must have zoned out too much and nodded quickly before Ianto noticed.  
  
“Of course. Lovely to meet you Debs, are you working on anything special right now?”  
  
She shook her head and seemed a little sad about it. “I've not got any of my own projects right now, I'm just helping out with the trawl of the local sales and so on, trying to spot any alien tech and more importantly ruling out any odd antiques that get mixed up with the lists. You'd be amazed how many of this lot can't tell the difference between an astrolabe and an alien toothpick.” Pointing to the bits of what looked like pottery and metal discs on her desk she shrugged.   
  
“This is my side project, UNIT found a crashed ship in the strata from the 14th century, looks like someone crash landed and buried their ship up in the Beacons. I've been sifting through the debris from the dig, picking out the human from the alien.” Picking up a small metal disc, she held it between her gloved fingers carefully. “So far it's mostly human, but I have picked out a few pieces of alien circuitry from the crash that were of interest. The metal the ship was made of can't be found on Earth, and we are trying to salvage every scrap for analysis.”  
  
Offering him the disc, she half pulled off her glove on the hand that was holding it, using it to pinch the disc so he could take it without touching it with his bare skin. Looking at it closely, he held it up to the light and caught a flash of rainbow shimmer, not light reflected off the metal but light passing  _through_  it instead. Looking over his shoulder at Ianto, he frowned.  
  
“Did you find the pilot?” Ianto shook his head and Jack nodded to himself. “Guess the natives didn't either, we'd've heard about a two headed skeleton...”  
  
“Two heads?” Debs said quickly, leaning over the table to get closer to them, as though that would make them make more sense, her curiosity appealing and earnest.  
  
Laughing, Jack handed the gloves and disc back to her, nodding. “Good luck with that.”  
  
“But, two heads?” Ianto gave her a look and she quietened down with obvious reluctance, a slight pout on her face as she watched them leave again.  
  
Moving away, Jack waited until they were out of earshot before leaning in towards Ianto and lowering his voice.  
  
“An archaeologist? Why do you need one of those?”  
  
Ianto waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It's an experiment, the Mr Copper foundation was set up a lot like Torchwood, to find the Doctor, except to try and help him rather than capture him,” Ianto admitted with a small smile. “As he is a time traveller it makes sense that he may show up in the past so-”  
  
“Archaeology, I get it. But I thought you would still be focusing on the here and now?”  
  
“We are. It was just an idea, the foundation wanted to see if it was possible to use archaeologists to learn more about the artefacts from other worlds, not just the tech but their society, their cultures, how they live...”  
  
“From what comes through the rift?”  
  
“Like I say; experiment. And to be honest, it's not working out. As a member of the team she's absolutely fine, a lovely girl, but there just isn't enough work in her specialism to justify a full time member of staff. The foundation has a whole team we can consult and it's very rare that anyone needs an archaeologist in an emergency.”  
  
“You've obviously never met the right archaeologist,” John piped up, walking up and insinuating himself between them, draping his arms over them both. “I've come across a couple of crackers in my time, and by that I mean my time, none of this 100 years is old shit, I mean proper archaeology. Now, Indiana Jones, that's the sort of archaeologist we need. I was hoping Debs would at least have a whip. I say throw her out.”  
  
“If you had your way,” Ianto hissed back, “our entire staffing situation would be handled by you deciding who you fancied and who wouldn't sleep with you.”  
  
“You make it sound like they are different things,” Jack pointed out, “I figure they'd overlap a lot.”  
  
“True, the fancying list is a lot larger than the ones who would agree to sleep with him.”  
  
“Oi, as you two have both been on my lists, you can hardly talk.”  
  
“I was never on your list John.” Slipping free of John's arms, Ianto shook his head quickly. “Come on, I would normally want you to meet Jimmy Chen next, he's something of a tactical wizard, but unfortunately he's off with a stomach upset at the moment.”  
  
“Nothing too serious I hope?”  
  
Ianto winced. “We think he may have picked something up off one of the Blobs, at least, we're hoping that's why he was producing purple vomit-” Jack sucked in a breath and pulled a face. “We got him checked out thoroughly at the hospital, they think it was just an alcopop incident, and the scanners say he'll be fine. It doesn't seem serious, just-”  
  
“Purple.”  
  
“Yes. Speaking of the blobs, remind me to introduce you to Jasmine, she's new, she's been dealing with them this week.”  
  
“Ooo, Jasmine,” John sighed, his arm being thrown back off of Jack too as he spoke. “Now there's a girl I wouldn't mind adding to my list, if you know what I mean.”  
  
“There are probably stone statues that know what you mean, John.” Pausing outside a door, Ianto pulled a hotel “do not disturb” sign off the handle and tossed it onto a nearby workbench. “Come on, next stop, Richard.”  
  
“The sparkly vampire physicist?” Jack asked, and Ianto smiled in surprise that Jack had been paying attention.  
  
“That's him.”  
  
“Personally I call him something else beginning with P, and ending in Rick,” John muttered, shaking his head and drifting back to let the others go first.  
  
“Not your type?” Jack shot back quickly, “my God, someone call the Guinness Planet of Records.”  
  
Ianto shot them a look, his hand on the door handle, and they fell silent, back on best behaviour.  
  
For a few minutes at least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.”  
> Tennessee Williams

Richard James Cavendish-Windsor had always had his own space growing up and that had been something he had insisted on when applying to Torchwood too. Unlike most of the Mr Copper interns, he had insisted that he had his own office. The others had just been pathetically grateful for a desk of their own, but some things in life were worth pushing for – and some people just had a way of getting what they wanted. For better or worse, Richard knew he was one of those people.  
  
He just couldn't work out how he got away with it.  
  
The space wasn't big, but it was all his, the room a bizarre mix between a professor's study and a modern classroom, three of the walls dominated by huge blackboards, and not just one type.   
  
One wall held an old fashioned chalk board, its surface covered in lines of equations and scribbles, slightly smudged in places. The same language covered the next wall too, but this time in marker pen on a giant white board, reds and blues and greens and blacks filling up the spaces but with occasional clear areas where they had been wiped away. The wall by the door held bookshelves along most of its space, a small clearing marking where his desk was, except that that too was half buried under books and papers.  
  
The final wall was an interactive white board and it was in front of this that he was standing, writing with a stylus and annotating sections of the equation taking shape across it.   
  
It wasn't only his room that resembled an old fashioned University Professor stereotype. Whilst he did not have the tweed, his brown corduroy trousers and cream shirt, complete with brown and yellow striped tie, did little to dispel the air of academia and 'old boy network' around him. Only his dark hair, carefully sculpted into indifference, gave any hint of his actual era. Otherwise, he could have stepped straight out of one of the archival photos of any of the Torchwood teams from the first half of the last century.  
  
On first impressions he was almost a cliché, an air of wealth and even older class distinctions to him that suggested the finest education money could buy. His looks were delicate but refined, movie star handsome, and, combined with the money, on first meeting him most people judged him to be a pretty but dumb rich boy and nothing else, assuming his education had been paid for in all senses of the word.   
  
He knew he sometimes acted like it too; his awareness of other peoples feelings and ability to say the right thing lay somewhere around the Hugh Grant level of awkward. But he had discovered it also seemed to give him a corresponding level of success with the ladies, a fact which always bemused him, yet he couldn't resist taking advantage of. He had been accused, fairly accurately, of being a 'man whore' by Lila before and he hadn't denied it. He wasn't a show off or complete cad who gloated or revealed all the next day, but he had no qualms in using whatever charms he possessed to get his way.   
  
Selfish, perhaps, but he never made promises he didn't expect to keep, never  _claimed_  to be a certain actor just to get a girl into bed. But then again he never denied it either. So, maybe sometimes he really was just like all the other rich boys he'd hated in Uni, arrogant, privileged, incredibly dumb, and rebelling against the tight control and authority he had at home in the only way he knew how; by being everything a proper gentleman shouldn't be.  
  
But put him in front of a puzzle or equation and he changed, a sharp intellect shining out almost like the Dr Jekyll to his arrogant yob of Mr Hyde. He could feel both sides of himself warring, the one liners and jokes and arrogance that his rebellious Hyde wanted to say suppressed in the office by the controlling influence of his well mannered and properly brought up Jeckyll. In an effort to succeed in life and be taken seriously, he had learnt to expand on his childhood lessons and cultivate politeness and eccentricity like a cloak, the perfect gentleman in work, his personal life kept safely separate.  
  
From his bosses at least. He didn't care what the other technicians thought of him. He wasn't popular, too caught up in himself, and that curious mix of awkwardness and entitlement that worked so well at attracting one night stands repelling anyone who tried to stay much longer. But it didn't matter to him, nothing did. Just the work. Sex satisfied his body for a short time but the work fed his soul.  
  
As he worked, he could feel the flow of the maths, the symbols and figures making perfect sense to him, more like music than language or science, each line possessing its own flow and style, its shape taking place like a great symphony, the music a song only he could hear, everything else forgotten.  
  
Or at least, almost everything.  
  
He wasn't sure how many times they had knocked before he noticed it, jolting him out of his concentration. Shaking his head as though to shake some stray bits of math out of it again, he turned to the door, half exasperated. What was the point in having a sign if everyone ignored it?   
  
“Come in!” He pushed aside his annoyance and forced a polite smile onto his face as Ianto appeared, followed closely by Captain Hart and the two newcomers. Interruptions from the technicians he just wouldn't tolerate, but he had a great deal of respect for the – normally – smart Mr Jones. Their backgrounds couldn't be more different, but so far Ianto had seemed to instinctively understand Richard, even when he realised later he had been behaving like a complete nightmare. Ianto seemed to know when to push and when to back off, giving him peace and quiet and the freedom to just pursue his research, knowing how important solitude was to him.  
  
Although apparently Ianto didn't think it was important enough to pay any attention to a Do Not Disturb sign.   
  
“Richard,” Ianto said smoothly, gesturing behind him to the others, “just doing the tour, this is Cassie and Jack. Richard here is our physicist and mathematician, as well as being heavily into astronomy-”  
  
Ah. Not just a random interruption, show and tell time. Solitude was important, the research was vital, but even Richard had enough commercial awareness to know when it was time to put it aside and play for the crowd. Besides, a chance to show off didn't come very often, and he loved to talk about his work; finding anyone capable of understanding what he was saying was almost impossible, but that never stopped him trying.  
  
Especially when the audience included such a stunning woman.  
  
“Astronomy is just a hobby,” he said quickly, slipping the stylus down on a ledge by the screen and hurrying over, discreetly wiping his hand on his trousers before offering it to Cassie. “No Degrees in that one.”  
  
“Of course,” she said, her eyes tracking over the walls in surprise. “So, what you're working on here is...”  
  
“Rift equations! After a fashion, I have been building on the work we've been able to recover from Miss Sato, she was one of my, I suppose predecessors would be the correct term. I don't pretend to have as much knowledge of the rift as she had as we have no way of tracking it any more. I can't test any hypotheses, just work on the theory, but I'm doing what I can. Hopefully one day we will find a way to put this to use and maybe get the rift back under control or at least a little less wild again.”  
  
“Wild?” Jack asked with a glance at Ianto. “How bad are we talking?”  
  
“No cracks as such,” Ianto said quickly, his attention all on Jack, as though trying to reassure him. “But we've seen an increase in artefacts over the past year, the rift isn't spreading or breaking up but it is far more... active, it's sucking more through than it used to. We estimate maybe five times as many things as we used to get.”  
  
“As far as I can tell, it's behaving like a funnel, whereas it used to be a straw,” Richard said quickly, darting to his electronic board and using the stylus to bring up a blank screen. He quickly drew a straw, then a funnel, spiralling down and wrote 'Cardiff' at the bottom of them and 'Universe' at the top. Gesturing at the straw, he drew lines down it to indicate directionality, flowing it down towards Cardiff.   
  
“It's always brought stuff through, washing up here, but the recent activity seemed to have stirred it up and increased its pull, sucking more in.”   
  
He shifted and gestured at the funnel, pointing at the thin bottom. “We believe our end, the 'out' door if you will, is the same size as always, but more is being pulled in at the other end. It used to be, the, the rift manipulator,” he said hesitantly, unsure of the exact term; machinery didn't interest him, just the theory. “It used to calm it down, keep it even. Of course, I understand it could also be used to widen  _this_  end too,” he said, waving his stylus over the bottom of the funnel, “and actually make things worse.”  
  
Ianto glanced at Jack, and Richard thought Ianto looked almost guilty as he elaborated to his visitors.   
  
“When the manipulator was used to open the rift,” Ianto explained, “we think it was like this too, pulling in more flotsam. This may even have been going on since then and we are just starting to notice it now. Of course then it wasn't just Cardiff so we suspect that instead of a funnel shape it was more like an hour glass, encompassing the Earth and spreading everything over a wider area.”  
  
“Ouch,” Jack whispered, and Cassie frowned.  
  
“So you're trying to what, figure out how to build another one of these Rift machines?”  
  
“Oh, no,” Richard said, “I don't have any technical knowledge, I'm strictly theory. I keep hoping Captain Hart will be able to help, as his wrist strap allows us to track rift spikes, but so far-”  
  
John grinned and stalked across the room, shrugging and pushing a stack of books aside on the desk to sit on it. “I keep telling you mate, just because I know how to use the thing doesn't mean I can tell you how to build one.”  
  
“You can track the rift?” Cassie asked.  
  
“Yeah, bits of it anyway, can even use this thing,” he said holding his wrist up and revealing the strap, “to hitch a ride on it back out of here, residual rift energy, it's like a turbo boost. But, as I keep telling the boy here, it's like a car. I can drive it, I can even do minor repairs, change a tyre, that sort of equivalent, but I couldn't sit down and tell you how to build one from scratch or tell you how it does what it does. I just drive it sweetheart.”  
  
“I see, and the original rift...”  
  
“Manipulator,” Ianto supplied.  
  
“Is gone?”  
  
“Blown up,” Jack added, making Richard look at him anew. There was something about the way he said it, the way Ianto was treating him, almost as though he knew more than they were letting on. He was about to ask when Ianto continued and he held back, not wanting to interrupt.  
  
“The plans are lost in the vault system,” Ianto added, his face guarded. “It's broken, we can't access them and it is unlikely they survived the explosions and flooding anyway. It may be many years before we are in any position to create another one.”  
  
“The first one took decades to develop,” Jack said, looking wistful, and Richard stared again, still not quite sure what to make of him. “The next one may not take as long but without being able to build on the work done creating the original manipulator that's still a hell of a project.”  
  
“Hence why we have Richard,” Ianto smiled again, nodding to him. “The theoretical groundwork has come a very long way since then, it's possible this time the theory may give us clues that will help speed up the implementation. We're very lucky to have him.”  
  
Richard ducked his head, not embarrassed in the slightest, but more as a means of not coming across as arrogant, controlling the urge to agree with Ianto. The effort of holding back in company was tiring but he had had a lifetime of practice; 'children should be seen and not heard' was less a saying to him and more a family motto.   
  
As they said their farewells and filed out, he turned back to his work, ready to lose himself in the equations once more, the one place and time he ever truly felt like the real him, not yobbish, not proper, just him. He didn't need the company, didn't need friends. He was a genius, he just needed his work and they all knew they were lucky to have him, and he knew it too, he really didn't need validation or a pat on the back.  
  
But, as the door clicked closed behind them, he couldn't help a small smile forming on his lips. On the other hand it was always nice to be appreciated.  
  
**************************************** *  
  
Jack watched from one side as Ianto glanced at Cassie questioningly. “Anything yet?”  
  
Shaking her head, she blew out a long breath. “Nothing so far, they all seem open, honest, friendly, no suspicion or fear. Of course, without a direct question or them knowing they have to try and hide I can't push a response from them-”  
  
“Later, I promise, if necessary we'll get everyone under a spotlight one by one and go all Spanish Inquisition on them if we have to.”  
  
“Spotlight is too clichéd,” Cassie said deadpan, “we need to use surprise, surprise is our greatest weapon. And fear, surprise and fear are our two greatest weapons.”  
  
Ianto laughed with her, his arm rising up to her back as they walked, with Jack all but forgotten behind them. “Monty Python? You still watch all that stuff?”  
  
Jack could see Ianto's hand slide higher as she shrugged, guiding her over to the next office and smiling politely to the technicians as they passed. “Who could resist? Besides, I like to think it's part of my quirky British charm. Although it is even funnier if you watch it after ingesting Hoix venom so you're in the same state of mind as they all were when they wrote it in the first place...”  
  
Jack dropped back as they walked on, lost in their reminiscing, and tried to stop the flare of jealousy inside him. It was strange, even after finding out about Lisa he had never really been worried about Ianto with anyone else. Whether that was because part of him arrogantly thought Ianto could never need anyone other than Jack, or through his own ignorance of the young man's attractiveness, was something he never wanted to look into too closely. But this, seeing him with a woman, the way they had a shared history, that she knew a piece of Ianto that Jack had never had, it-  
  
“Hurts, don't it?” John asked quietly, slipping closer to stand alongside Jack and watch the pair of them as Ianto showed Cassie the blobs and introduced her to the dark haired technician working with them.  
  
“Empathy? Thought you had to actually have feelings for that to work,” Jack spat back angrily, cross with himself that John had noticed his weakness.  
  
“You know, you can be a real bitch when you're in a bad mood Harkness.”  
  
“You'd know.”  
  
“Yeah,” John said thoughtfully, leaning in closer. “Y'know, when I first turned up, Eye Candy looked at me the exact same way you're watching her, trying to work out just what I'd been up to with you before, whether I was a threat- 'Cept for when he was just plain lusting after me of course,” John added with a sneer.  
  
“If you want another beating, that can be arranged, especially as you can't cheat and shoot me in here,” Jack snarled back, his fists clenching.  
  
“Yeah, right, like you could ever take me if I didn't want you to.”  
  
“Oh I could take you right now,” Jack said quickly, turning to face John and shoving a hand against his chest to force him to step backwards, even as John's face twisted into a delighted snarl. “Any time, any place-”  
  
A polite cough brought them back to the present as they turned to find Lois staring at them, her arms folded across the notepad in her arms.   
  
“Captain. Captain.” Breaking off from each other, they turned to face the younger woman, her stern body language making them stop short. “If you've quite finished trying to 'take' each other in the middle of the office and in front of quite an interested audience...” Looking round, Jack finally noticed the groups of technicians all staring at them. But the more worrying sight was Ianto and Cassie watching them from across the room, Cassie's face unreadable as ever even as she watched every flicker of his, whilst Ianto's showed-  
  
Disappointment? Damn.  
  
“Captain Hart, Johnson wants you in the Armoury.”  
  
“I'll bet she does,” John replied with a small sneer, brushing imaginary traces of dust off of his jacket as he slid past Jack. “Captain.”  
  
“Captain.”  
  
“Captain Harkness,” Lois continued, a small smile forming on her face as soon as John was gone. “Sorry for the sternness, it's the only way to handle him that I've found so far.” Jack laughed, nodding.  
  
“It's either that or sleep with him, and sometimes not even that works.”  
  
“I'll have to try it sometime,” she deadpanned, making him grin. “Sir, that list Ianto gave you. I was just wondering if there was anything you'd spotted on it so far? I might be able to try and jog your memory about a few things? Not to mention, it's been a hard task reforming the archives and whilst I've got you here I would love the chance to pick your brains about a couple of cases we're having trouble indexing. They were before Ianto's time, so I was wondering if you might be able to help me with the filing?”  
  
Jack knew he was being played, distracted, made to feel useful, whatever they wanted to call it. But as he looked across the room he could see the silent plea on Ianto's face and nodded, returning his attention to Lois and forcing a smile onto his face. He could go along with it for now.  
  
Besides, he figured the phrase 'helping with the filing' should be more than just a euphemism at some point in his life, and the one lesson Captain Jack Harkness knew all too well was that there was no quite literally no time like the present.  
  
  
**************************************** ****************  
  
John grinned to himself as he pulled the armoury door closed behind him, leaning against it as he watched Johnson going through the weaponry. “So. You wanted me?”  
  
“Don't get your hopes up, John,” she said, not even turning round, and he felt his enthusiasm dampen somewhat. Business then. “I hardly think we should be abusing each other in the office with something new kicking off. Don't you agree?”  
  
“'Course.”   
  
“However.” John grinned, enjoying a hopeful twitch from his crotch at that however. “It is a blackout night, so I was just wondering if you wanted to conserve energy and candles and stay over at mine tonight.” Grinning broadly, John nodded, then spoke up as he realised she wasn't going to look at him.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Yes what?”  
  
“Yes ma'am?”   
  
She laughed, just once, low and almost rumbling, reminding him of a giant cat, the sound perfectly pitched halfway between a purr and a growl.   
  
“I was going for please, but that will do.” Turning around at last, she folded her arms across her chest and regarded him with a curious stare. “I just thought I should check that you don't have any other arrangements already.”  
  
Ducking his head slightly, John pushed himself off the door and stalked over to her, looking up through his eyelashes as he came closer. “Not jealous are you, Johnson?”  
  
Raising an eyebrow, she unfolded her arms and leaned them back against the counter, resting on her palms. “Of Mr Jones? Hardly.” As she let him press in close against her, he watched as a tiny smile quirked up one side of her mouth. “Curious, definitely.”  
  
“You are such a voyeur...”  
  
“I've spent the past three years fighting, fleeing and living with a large group of men who were off limits. It was either become a voyeur, a lesbian or a nun.”  
  
“You'd suit one of those wimple things,” John said, looking up to the ceiling as he considered it, placing his hands either side of hers against the counter and blocking her in. “And a rosary has many, many uses...”  
  
“That,” she pointed out smoothly, “must surely be blasphemy.”  
  
“Depends on which God you believe in, love,” John whispered back, ducking his head to kiss along her jaw before nipping at her earlobe sharply. “None of mine have a problem with it.”  
  
“I don't believe in any.”  
  
“Then I don't see a problem.”  
  
“Maybe some things are too kinky even for me.”  
  
Laughing, John pressed his knee between her legs, feeling her part for him but not too much, the resistance all he needed to know this was not going to lead anywhere. Not right now anyway. “Haven't found any such thing yet.”  
  
“Well,” she whispered back, pushing him away and ducking out from under his arms. “We'll just have to try harder then, won't we Captain?” Opening the armoury door again, she strolled out into the office, leaving John behind to cool off, a smile on his face that he couldn't quite seem to wipe off.  
  
“Yes ma'am.”  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Lois finished making notes on the files and put them to one side with a deep breath, checking through her ever present notebook before glancing back up at Jack. Lois' office was small, but she liked it. The entire outside wall was glass and she could feel sunlight on her skin nearly all day, and she even had a window that would open unlike the sealed environment of the main rooms. Ianto had suggested this particular room to her and she had fallen in love with it right away.  
  
Her desk took up most of one wall, extended by a couple of sets of drawers, and it was covered in papers and files and an array of pens and pencils in what looked like chaos but was actually highly organised. A pair of family photos sat by her computer monitor, along with a group shot of her and some friends sitting on a beach. As she looked at Jack sitting in the small armchair by the window, she caught him staring out blankly into space and smiled.  
  
“We can take a break if you like, I know this must be boring.”  
  
Jack startled then smiled at her, a little embarrassed. “It's fine.”  
  
Lois hesitated, unsure if she should say what was on her mind, and leaned back in her chair, just watching him as he faced the window again. “Captain Harkness,” she began, tentative until he faced her again. “I just wanted to say, it's good to see you again. And... I was sorry to hear about your grandson. I didn't find out until much later and I... I'm sorry.”  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered quietly, his gaze dropping from hers. “I'm sorry you got caught up in all this Lois, I never thought that it would end like it did.”  
  
“It ended the way it had to,” she said softly, her eyes flicking to the huge window and taking in the sight of the world outside as though it was something she could never get enough of. “I mean, I wish it could have been different, but if it had...”  
  
“How was prison?” Jack asked suddenly, the question surprising her and pulling her back from her contemplation of the Cardiff skyline with a jolt.  
  
“Prison?” She shrugged, trying to hide her discomfort. “Not as bad as I'd feared I guess. No big burly cellmate wanting to make me her wife. No cellmate at all actually, they kept me in solitary. They never,” she paused, her hands wrapping over her knees. “They never hurt me, they just kept me. I don't think they really knew what to do with me to be honest and were just marking time. I sometimes felt like they'd just forgotten about me, and then all of a sudden it would be more questioning, more about what I knew about Torchwood, where Ianto and Gwen had gone, whether I'd ever met Johnson and her team, 'cause they were on the run too by then.”  
  
“But I didn't know anything,” she added, shrugging. “And when they were questioning me at least I wasn't in my cell. At least I had company and it felt like someone knew I was there, like they cared, like I mattered. To be honest, I think they told me more in those sessions than I ever told them. Every time they asked me about Ianto and Gwen I knew it meant they were still out there, still fighting. Made me know there was still a world worth fighting for.”  
  
“And then they sent Johnson for me and I came to work here. It's definitely the most interesting temp assignment I've had!”  
  
“Temp?” Jack asked.  
  
Laughing, she shook her head quickly. “Three year contract. I have to work here for three years to pay off my prison debt and get my record wiped clean, but after that I'm free to stay or go as I please. Although I must admit,” she said, a wistful look on her face, “I'm not sure what could ever possibly compare to this.”  
  
“You really enjoy it here, don't you?”  
  
“Who wouldn't?” she asked, looking at the files all over her desk. “I get a hundred mysteries to solve every day, a great team to work with, a salary far beyond anything I could hope for before, my own office, pension and healthcare.” She grinned. “The workload sometimes sucks but it is never, ever boring, and my boss is an angel compared to some I've had. But it's more than that, I just...”  
  
Leaning forward over her desk, Lois wasn't sure quite why she was telling him all this but smiled anyway. “I used to just push pieces of paper around, answer emails, do the filing, all those stupid little bureaucratic things that never end, that never do anything and are only noticed by their absence. I never made a difference. But here,” she stabbed her finger against the desk for emphasis, “here I can make a difference. What I do matters. And that, that makes up for every late night, every bad day, and every arse grab from John.”  
  
Jack shook his head and grinned back at her. “Some people would consider that a perk of the job.”  
  
“No, a perk is when I grab his,” she replied with a wink before instantly flushing. Oh God, what was she thinking about, this was Captain Harkness, this was really her boss and she had just-  
  
At his loud and genuine laughter she let herself relax a little bit and join in, unable to keep the embarrassment off her face. Grabbing another file quickly, she opened it and used it to half hide herself, peering over the top of it at him and trying to pretend to be all business again. “Anyway...”  
  
Calming himself, Jack just grinned at her, settling himself into the chair again. “Back to work. Even the filing can make a difference in this job.”  
  
“I like to think so.” Looking at the file, she picked out the relevant information and nodded to him. “So, does a three legged purple cow ring any bells with you?”  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Cassie took advantage of a moments solitude to stretch out her arms, tilting her head back to the ceiling as she closed her eyes. It was exhausting; she had been chatting to the whole team, face to face, one by one. Her notepads were covered in what she had observed and her head was killing her with the strain but she was getting there. Or, at least, she was narrowing down the list a little.   
  
The problem was, there were too many suspects still who either were genuinely not hiding anything and just nervous about being in here with her, or were very good liars. The routine assessment excuse worked on some though, and the junior technicians had been happy to go along with it. The ones who had been here long enough to know there was no such thing, they were the tricky ones.  
  
As for the management team, they were another story altogether. Captain Hart was... Gathering her thoughts, she couldn't help wondering what her colleagues who worked on the more extreme criminal cases would think of him. She was sure he couldn't possibly come under just one label. Whether he was a psychopath or a sociopath wasn't her field, and sex addict was the only thing she had been able to positively identify for herself, but that wasn't exactly something he was trying to hide.   
  
At least, not when he had propositioned her within sixty seconds of them being alone. The strangest part was, she had actually been tempted. It had been a long time since she had talked to someone for that long without catching their gaze flicking to her scars. He had paid plenty of attention to her breasts, yes, but not her neck. It was... refreshing.  
  
And creepy as hell.  
  
Twisting her arms behind her neck to stretch, she jumped and looked up from her borrowed desk, frowning as Captain Jack Harkness slipped into the room. Speaking of creepy...  
  
“Captain,” she said coldly, watching as he dropped himself into the seat opposite her, her calm mood disappearing fast. “I don't need to interview you, you're not a suspect.”  
  
“Good, because I'm not here to be interviewed, I'm here to chat.”  
  
“Chat.” Leaning back in her chair, she resisted the urge to throw her pen at him, scramble across the desk and try to throttle him, a hundred long forgotten hatreds and fantasies rushing through her mind. She honestly hadn't expected to react to him like this, to feel so strongly every ounce of the anger and fear that had sustained her after Canary Wharf but she had thought was long since put aside. Even after all this time, she still blamed him, still wanted to make him suffer, to hurt him.  
  
Instead, she stayed as still as she could, watching every single move he made.  
  
“Yes, chat. You know, get to know each other, work on more than snap judgements-”  
  
“I would hardly call it a snap judgement,” she spat back, unable to help herself. “You were legendary at Torchwood One even before you consigned the few of us who survived to the scrap heap. Horny Harkness, did you know that was your nickname? The Torchwood Tart was another.” She was surprised to see that he showed no sign of shock at that, no trace of surprise. He had known. He just didn't care.  
  
And she really, really, wanted him to care. She had spent so long trying to forget Torchwood, to forget all that she had been through, but most of all him. Survivor guilt the psychologists had called it, the pressure of being one of so few to survive making her question herself. All she knew was she had no idea why she had lived when so many friends had died.  
  
But she knew exactly who had killed her after that.  
  
“You were reputed to be a joke,” she pushed, her anger clear on her face, “a sad, pathetic, lonely little letch who recruited his staff according to how much he wanted to sleep with them. Imagine my surprise when I found out you actually were more than that, that you were the one who swooped in when Torchwood fell and decided that, actually,  _we_  were the embarrassment. That we were the ones who had to be hidden, shut away-”  
  
“I never shut you away.”  
  
“No, you just made it impossible for us to do anything other than what you wanted. Therapy,” she laughed, “do you have any idea how ridiculous therapy was? They don't even have names for some of the things we'd seen, and yet there was this kid of a doctor telling me it was normal, that we would get over it. PTSD! That was my favourite. Oh and art therapy, drawing Cybermen, like that would help get them out of my head, as though the sound of their voices wouldn't haunt me every night-”  
  
“Okay, that's enough!” Jack yelled, leaning forward and slamming his hands down on the desk, his anger evident on his face in lines that even a complete novice could read. “If you want to play the martyr or the victim, that's your choice-”  
  
“The victim? You think I'm playing the  _victim_ ?” She yelled back, rising to her feet. “I had to fly halfway across the world to avoid being labelled as a victim, to make sure nobody would work out what really happened to me, to have any chance of a normal life again, so don't you dare talk to me like that!”  
  
“Oh come off it,” he snarled, leaning back in his chair, “it's written all over your face, you can't cope with what happened to you, so, rather than deal with it, you've made me into some kind of monster just because I had to clean up the mess.”  
  
“Mess? Is that all we are to you, a  _mess_ ?”  
  
“In a word, yes! You think you were the only ones hurt at Torchwood One, that you were the only ones who lost friends, who were grieving? I lost friends too, I thought I lost someone very special to me, I lost all the support I had left-”  
  
“Oh come on, you rejected us long before the battle-”  
  
“Yeah, but that's the thing, it's one thing to fight with your parents and move out, it's quite another to have to come clean out their house after they're dead,” he said quickly, tapping at the table as he stared up at her. “You think you had it bad? You were in hospital, you didn't have to go through that whole building, see every single conversion chamber and what was left behind, you didn't have to dispose of the bodies or try to assess who could survive and who was too far gone...” He broke off, his eyes leaving her face as he looked away, the expressions so familiar to her and yet unexpected, something it had honestly never occurred to her that he would feel.  
  
Guilt. Shame.  _Remorse._  
  
“Too far gone?” She echoed, gentle, the breath almost gone from her as she half guessed the answer but didn't want to hear it. “What do you mean?”  
  
Sighing heavily, Jack looked up at her again. “You really think you were the only one in the chambers when the power died? You were just the only one who could be saved.”  
  
Cassie could feel her knees go out from under her and she half sat half collapsed onto her chair, her hands grabbing for the desk for support. She searched his face, looking for any hint of deception, any lie, any tell tale signals that would make it go away. It had to be a lie, it had to be-  
  
“There... There were others,” she whispered at last. He nodded, sadness and guilt on his face and she could almost feel his remorse. “Oh God, you... You had to kill them, didn't you?”  
  
Shaking his head, Jack carried on, but there, finally, there was the hint of a lie on his face but she didn't want to see it. Not now. Not with what he was saying.   
  
“Most were already dead or dying, bleeding out, we tried to save those we could but... Some were already far enough through the conversion that they, their humanity, was already gone. We had no choice.”  
  
“How...” Swallowing hard, she fought back the urge to throw up, forcing herself to look at him, to carry on reading his face even though she didn't want to know the truth any more. “How did you...”  
  
“Injection. Gunshot. Some were, they were violent, converted, there was no way we could get close enough to them, some, there wasn't enough of them left for drugs-” Jack broke off, his face twisted as he leaned forward on the desk. “Look, I'm am sorry, I really am, and I know you got a lousy deal, I know I messed up how I handled it all, but you weren't the only one who had to deal with it all, there was more at stake. If we could go back, right now, just step back in time and I could do it again, you  _tell_  me, how should I have handled it?”  
  
Shaking her head a little, she could feel her fingers starting to cramp with the pressure she was putting on them, pressed against the table, and she forced herself to stop and draw her arms back and fold them across her body.   
  
“You could have asked us what we wanted to do instead of telling us.”  
  
“Really?” Jack sat back and folded his arms, mirroring her. “Think about the others, you and Ianto were maybe the most coherent of the group and you were both pretty much shell shocked, you really think you were up to making life decisions right then? I gave you choices, you could have stayed-”  
  
“And done what? I lost everything-”  
  
“So, you would have had to start over anyway, so why not a completely fresh start? Oh wait, that's exactly what you got, isn't it? New identity, money, great references, rubber stamped Visa-”  
  
“I- It wasn't like that!”  
  
“Yes, it was! You just never let yourself see it, you're supposed to be an expert at seeing emotions, reading people, but you've let your own anger blind you to it.” He smiled, a bitter twist of his lips that help no warmth, but maybe a begrudging respect. “Take it from someone who has had to pick up the pieces and start over again more times than is good for a person's sanity, you have done the best you could, the right thing for you, and you are doing a damn sight better job of it than I have ever managed!”  
  
“So,” he added, “if you could please just get that chip off your shoulder, maybe you could see that actually, you're alive, you're whole, you have a good life ahead of you. Maybe then you can be happy and just show a little gratitude instead of hatred for a split second!”  
  
Stunned, Cassie could feel herself biting back her anger, but worse, she could tell that he was telling the truth, he actually believed he had done the best he could for her, for all of them.  
  
And worst of all, she was starting to believe it too. There were no monsters left for her to hate, the Cybermen were long gone, and Captain Jack Harkness, the man she had let herself hate for so long wasn't a villain at all. He was just human, just like the rest of them.  
  
He was a victim of this as much as she was.  
  
“Forget it,” he said, rising to his feet. “Look, we have to work together, so let's just call a truce for Ianto's sake, forget it all and get through this.” She remained silent as he waited, watching her, before sighing and turning around, heading for the door. “Life's too short for grudges, you need to let it go.”  
  
“Is that what you said to seduce Ianto?” she called after him, unsure why she was doing it; if she really believed it, if she really wanted to know how Ianto, the determined and angry young man she had known, had turned into a love struck idiot, or if she just wanted to hurt Jack, to hit him whilst he was down, just because she could.  
  
Jack stopped by the door, his body tense and she could see him shifting, stiff muscled, and she could almost feel the fight within him. Finally he turned, his face blank as he stared at her coldly.  
  
“You know what, I'm sick of talking about my relationship with Ianto with anyone but him. I'm sick of the looks and remarks and jealousy, I'm sick of the way it's such a big deal, why it has to be labelled and analysed and-” Breaking off, he crossed the room in two strides and leaned on the desk facing her, staring into her eyes. “So come on, if you're the face reader, if you're his friend, if you give a _damn_  about us, or anyone other than you and your revenge, then go on, ask me, ask me anything you want.”  
  
“Did you seduce him?”  
  
“No,” he snarled, angry but truthful.  
  
“Did you use him?”  
  
“At first,” he shrugged, unconcerned, “maybe, but no more than he was using me.”  
  
“Do you really love him?” She watched him closely, watching every line and twitch on his face, concentrating as hard as she could, trying to read him. She was so tired, almost numb from so many interviews, but she forced herself to focus. She had to see for herself.  
  
“Yes.”   
  
Pushing up off the desk, Jack turned around again and marched out, not pausing this time, and left her alone in the small room. Blowing out a shaky breath, she watched as the door closed, then slid out of her chair to sit on the floor. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she stared blindly into the distance, her focus lost in the pattern of the carpet tiles, blue grey filling her senses, replaying his response over and over in her head, calming herself and forcing her body to relax at last.  
  
She  _knew_ .  
  
The question was, did Ianto?  
  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
Johnson closed the door to Ianto's office behind herself and made her way over to the chair by his desk. “You wanted to see me, Sir?” Nodding, he waited whilst she sat down, ramrod straight on the chair, as he fiddled with his pen in a gesture she would almost count as nervousness.   
  
“Yes, we haven't had a chance to talk since you got out of hospital, and I just wanted to touch base on a few things.”  
  
“Of course, Sir.” Ianto waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“At ease soldier,” he joked and her face shifted, a lazy smile forming as she relaxed her body and moved on the chair, getting comfortable. “First off,” he continued, “how are you doing? I know the doctor's were worried about your lungs-”  
  
“Please don't worry, Sir – Ianto – I am perfectly fit for duty.”  
  
“I never doubted that. And even if I had, I've seen your drill scores from earlier, nicely done.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.” She waited, watching him knowingly and half hoping he would ask what was really on his mind. One thing about working with men for so long, she knew how to know when they were avoiding talking about something. The question was, how much handling would he need? And what was the problem that would have him so wound up, almost nervous around her, as if unsure how she would react-  
  
Oh. Resisting the urge to laugh, she finally abandoned subtlety and spoke up instead.   
  
“Harkness performed very well too. Although, my initial impression is that he takes too many risks.”  
  
Ianto looked up, a small frown line between his eyebrows showing his concern as he considered that. “Explain.”  
  
“When he works alone, he is always more concerned about the mission than himself and doesn't leave enough thought to how to get himself out of a situation again.”  
  
“And that's a bad thing?”  
  
“Not in a suicide bomber, no,” she replied matter of factly and Ianto winced. “But when the objective is to get in and get out again, the key part is  _not_  getting captured or killed, and he just doesn't seem to even consider that. If he was normal, I'd say he had a death wish, but with Harkness it's more that he just doesn't care either way.”  
  
“Immortality will do that to you, I guess.”  
  
“And if he was working alone it wouldn't be so bad,” she pointed out, “but, instead, if he is killed or captured he endangers everyone else in this team when we try to get him out again, or someone could get hurt just because he isn't where he's supposed to be to back us up.”  
  
Ianto sighed, leaning back in his chair and thinking about the number of times Jack had thrown himself at danger and it had fallen to everyone else to (often quite literally) drag his arse out of there again. There was no denying she had a point, Jack did tend to go for the self sacrifice, even on occasions when a more subtle approach would have been just as efficient.  
  
“Can you work with him?” He finally asked, half dreading the answer, and more relieved than he would admit at her reply.  
  
“Of course. He's a complete maverick, but he is also a soldier, highly adaptive and smart. He will adjust, but I want to carry on drilling with him as much as possible, especially with the team, he needs to get used to being responsible for someone other than himself again and working with others. I just,” she broke off, trying to explain herself in ways a civilian would understand.   
  
“Sir, they are my men, my friends, and I would as soon die for them as order them to lay down their lives for the greater good. I would sacrifice any of us in a heartbeat,  _if there was no other way._  But I will never, ever, throw their lives away on a whim, or accept anyone else endangering them unnecessarily.”  
  
Ianto thought of his team, of all the people who were relying on him, and knew exactly what she meant. He suspected deep down Jack did too; he just didn't seem to realise that whilst he was dead, time was still moving on and the people he left behind had to carry on without him. In one sense it was flattering that Jack trusted them so completely, that he knew that they would be able to deal with his body and keep things going until he came back.  
  
It was also bloody annoying. Sighing, Ianto rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble smoother against his palm by now but still a surprise to him as he felt it.   
  
“Understood.” Nodding to herself, Johnson moved as though to stand up.   
  
“If there's nothing else-”  
  
“Actually there is.” Ianto blew out another long breath. “About John. I know he told you what happened between us and -”  
  
“Sir,” Johnson quickly put her hand up, stopping him as she hastily interrupted. “Please, can I just say something? Whatever happens between me and John is my business. Whatever happens between you and John is your business. To be frank, whatever happens between John and the four legged inhabitants of Cardiff is the RSPCA's business.” Ianto couldn't help smiling at that point, in spite of the sheer grossness of the thought. “I have no claim over John, he has no claim over me, we are just... Convenient.”  
  
“Convenient.”  
  
“Yes, Sir.” She smiled a little. “Were you worried I was going to go all bunny boiler on you?”  
  
“No! Course not.” She simply stared and Ianto nodded slowly, a small smile forming. “Okay, maybe a little. I just don't feel very proud of myself for this, and with the amount of extra relationships going on around here it feels like it's turning into a bad soap opera some days. Or an episode of Jerry Springer.”  
  
“'I slept with my 51st century ex boyfriend's ex boyfriend and now I have to work with them both?' I can see it being a good episode at that.”  
  
“Wait until you add in the surprise guest of the Doctor,” Ianto muttered darkly. “As long as we are okay, I hope between us we can handle the Captains until this calms down a little.”  
  
“We can but try.”  
  
  
**************************************** ****************  
  
Lila looked up at the knock, noticing the smile Dave gave as Debs stuck her head around it, his face lighting up like an eager puppy at the sound of his master at the front door. “Alright if I come in?”  
  
“Sure,” Lila said quickly, turning back to her work, knowing full well the young woman wasn't really there for her even as Dave visibly perked up, sitting up straighter in his chair and brushing crumbs off his t-shirt. The man was a total slob, but she had worked with worse.  
  
“Hi Debs! What brings you into our den of geek?” Lila winced at his eagerness and tried to concentrate on her work. Even for a nerd, he was just plain bad with women.  
  
“I wondered if you could use a hand, I know I'm just an archaeologist but maybe you could find something for me to do...?”  
  
Lila resisted from groaning as Debs perched on the edge of Dave's desk, twisting to look at his monitors, asking him what he was looking into, and generally flirting outrageously. It was slightly sickening.  
  
Grabbing her iPad and purse, Lila locked her computer and slipped out from behind her desk, backing away to the door as Dave looked up. “I'm gonna grab a drink, anyone want anything?”  
  
“Sounds good, coke please.” Debs shook her head quickly, a slightly simpering grin on her face, and Lila resisted the urge to point out that that sort of charm was wasted on her - and having to watch her using the charm on Dave was just nauseating. Lila may have been gay, but that didn't mean she lacked taste.   
  
Pulling the door shut behind her, she sighed and leaned back against it for a moment. Quite why Debs was suddenly so keen to help, she had no idea, but as out of character as the thought that she was being helpful was, the thought that Debs might actually be interested in Dave was worse.  
  
Shuddering, Lila hurried to the vending machine in the technicians' kitchen. Straight women had the oddest taste...  
  
**************************************** ****************  
  
Ianto looked up at the knock on his door and smiled as Cassie slid into the room, looking tired but still serene as always. “Alright if I come in?”  
  
“Of course, pull up a chair.” Ianto put down the files he was reading through and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “Got any good news for me?”  
  
“Depends how you define good,” she admitted, shaking her head slowly. “It's a tight knit office full of permanent staff, temporary staff, secrets and relatively young hormones. I think I've identified at least three different couples who are trying to hide their flings from you, at least two girls fancy you, one young man might be developing a slight drug problem, something in his responses felt off, you may need to watch him-”  
  
Ianto raised his eyebrows in surprise as she slid the list of names over to him.  
  
“-plus I think one young man is developing a crush on Harkness, not strictly speaking related but thought you might want to know,” she added with a sly grin. Ianto laughed and shook his head quickly.  
  
“For goodness sake don't tell Jack, he has an impressive enough ego as it is.”  
  
“You really think so?”  
  
Ianto looked up from the list and frowned, her tone suddenly serious and drawing his full attention. “What do you mean?”  
  
“We had a chat. Okay, a fight.”  
  
“A fight? What-”  
  
“It's not as bad as it sounds. Actually, in an odd way it was helpful.” Shrugging, she crossed one leg over the other and wrapped her hands over her knee, her fingertips tapping against a small silver ring on her right hand. “He's... not what I imagined. He seems so on edge, and the tension between him and John, they really seem to hate each other...”  
  
“John inspires that reaction in a lot of people,” Ianto muttered, adding his own notes to the list she had given him and purposefully ignoring her gaze.  
  
“I see...” He stayed still for as long as he could, willing her to look away before finally pushing the papers away with a loud sigh and staring at her.  
  
“What?”  
  
Cassie stared at him, as though debating whether to say anything, her face impassive but in her eyes he could see some struggle taking place. It reminded him of the way she had approached him alone that first time, her hand reaching out to snag his, her eyes locked onto his face as he had been unable to stop staring at the red scar across her forehead. She had seen right through him, had asked him outright what he was hiding and he hadn't been able to help himself, it had all come tumbling out.  
  
It had felt so good to tell someone, anyone, even as his heart was aching at his betrayal of Lisa, his despair that maybe Cassie would tell, that he would lose her all over again-  
  
He had seen that look in her eyes then, fighting with herself to decide what to do, whether to help keep his secret or to tell, her own feelings so strong and drawing her in one direction at last, her eyes suddenly clearing and her voice telling him it was going to be okay. That she would help him.  
  
That she would help him save Lisa – and at the same time hurt the Torchwood that she still blamed for hurting her.  
  
He saw her eyes clear again, saw her draw a deep breath before shaking her head quickly. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but you need to go easier on him, Ianto.”  
  
Laughing incredulously, he shook his head quickly. “Go easy on John? Never.”  
  
“No, not John,  _Jack_ .”  
  
“Jack?” Ianto asked dully, not quite believing what he was hearing. “You are asking me to go easy on Jack?”  
  
“I know,” she admitted, “I know, I can't stand him, he's arrogant and selfish and a few years ago I wanted to kill him-”  
  
“I think the phrase 'do whatever it takes to get close to him then take him out' was used.”  
  
Wincing, she brushed her hand over her mouth then across her forehead slowly before speaking again. “I was a different person back then Ianto, we all were. I was so angry, so alone... I thought being forced out of Torchwood, of having to leave behind my name and everything I had ever known was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I lost everyone I cared about at Canary Wharf and my job and it was just so unfair...”  
  
“It wasn't Jack's fault,” Ianto said quietly, tapping the table slowly. “He lost people there too. Good friends. He was hurting too and just wanted to get rid of any evidence it ever happened.”  
  
“Including us. Don't you ever forget that Ianto. Don't you ever forget what you had to go through to get here, of what he made you-”  
  
“It wasn't Jack!” Ianto said angrily, slamming his hand down onto the desk hard. “I made myself do those things Cassie, I was the one who kept Lisa alive when she was begging me to end it, I was the one who killed his-” He stopped, closing his eyes tight. “I don't blame Jack for any of that. It's in the past now, it's gone.”  
  
“Then why is he looking at you like he would give anything for you to just smile at him?” she asked quietly. “Look, Ianto, I would normally be the last person in the world to ever give Harkness a break, but I can see it in you, you're punishing him and yourself for something and it's making you both miserable. Whilst I may not give a damn if he gets hit by a whole convoy of buses tomorrow, I do care about you, and if he is your choice then I can suck it up for your sake. But right now, unless you can let go of whatever this issue is between you, you're both just going to drive each other crazy.”  
  
“I'm not angry with him.”  
  
Shrugging, she leaned forward over her crossed legs. “Then I guess the person you're really angry with is you. And I'd guess that whatever it is, he reminds you of it just as much as he reminds me of the worst time of my life. I'm gonna try and get past that, although I can't promise I won't just give in and push him out a window.” Ianto laughed in spite of himself. “Look, I want you to be happy Ianto. I just worry, he's... He's dangerous.”  
  
“So's this job.”  
  
“Is that supposed to make it better or worse?” Cassie snorted, leaning back again. “Just take care of yourself Ianto. Please.”  
  
“In the job or my love life?”  
  
“Both. I don't like him-”  
  
“You've made that clear.”  
  
“But as you love each other, then...” Sighing, she pushed up from the chair and headed to the door.  
  
“Cassie?” She turned back, her hand on the door. “Did you ask him? Like you did to me, did you ask...”  
  
“If he loves you?” Ianto hoped he wasn't blushing, but he saw the softening of her face as she smiled. “Yes.”  
  
“Yes you asked, or yes he does?”  
  
“Yes.” She replied with a small smirk and left him to his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “By night an atheist half believes in God.”  
> Edward Young

Ianto sighed as the pizza and Chinese takeaway boxes were set upon by the hungry technicians, food disappearing at a rate that reminded him of the time they'd come across a whole group of Hoix raiding the local rubbish dump. If they could figure out a way to domesticate or communicate with the Hoix they would be a hell of an asset in the fight to lower landfill rates. In the meantime though, he had a group of hungry twenty somethings yawning and chatting and fighting over who ordered anchovies and who had the pepperoni.  
  
Johnson's men had already eaten and headed back to their rooms for some rest, before being on call for evening patrols through the blackout; for some reason the weevils seemed to enjoy the darker nights. Johnson had instead opted for a camp bed in the armoury so she could be on hand. As she emerged, looking relaxed if not especially rested, Ianto tried to ignore the sight of John slipping out of the door a couple of minutes after her. It surprised him sometimes that he genuinely wasn't jealous of them. But then again, he had never had any designs on John as anything more than-  
  
He wasn't sure what the answer to that was and the more he thought about it the more discomforting it became. Was he really the type of guy who just used someone else to get off? Or was his bizarre friendship with John and his feelings for him actually... Feelings? He wasn't sure which option appealed to him less, that he was just using someone or that he was that much of an idiot as to start to trust someone like John. Either way, it wasn't a side of himself he liked the sound of.  
  
But it  _was_  him, the wicked voice at the back of his mind whispered to him, he had done it before, he had lied and deceived and used people; Jack had been nothing but a means to an end, a target, then a convenient warm body when the ache became too much, and then a distraction from the pain. It wasn't like that any more, it was so much more than that, he had been willing to die for Jack, he had killed for Jack-  
  
That was the problem with the big sacrifices. How to move from death and sacrifice to watching Strictly Come Dancing and doing the washing up was a step most movies seemed to skip over for some strange reason. He was flying blind and had no idea what he was doing now. He just knew it hurt too much to be apart from Jack and that it hurt to be with him too. All he had to do was figure out which hurt less.  
  
Simple.  
  
Rubbing a hand over his face, Ianto felt the thicker layer of stubble on his cheeks anew and smiled to himself. It was slowly starting to prickle less, becoming softer and more defined as it grew. He had been tempted to try and start shaping it already, the general dusting too distracting in the mirror, but knew better. He could wait until it was properly coming in, ready for moulding. After all, if there was one thing Ianto was, it was patient.  
  
Mostly.  
  
Watching as they ravaged the last pepperoni pizza from the stack, Ianto turned down the offer of a slice and slid into his seat at the head of the conference table, fighting back a yawn and promising himself a proper sit down with a glass of wine and his own dinner when he got home. He was starting to find pizza and fizzy drinks were no longer as appealing as they had once been and was feeling full just watching them all be too polite to steal the last cola until finally someone grabbed it.   
  
Content that everyone who wanted it had food and drink, he tapped the table with his pen, just enough of a noise to draw their attention and call the meeting to order.  
  
“Okay, time for another update. Biology and tech, anything of interest in the list of missing bodies?”  
  
Sarah Thomas raised her hand near the back of the room and nodded, pushing her food to one side. “Full list of biohazards and dangers has been done, sent you a copy, nothing further to add so far on that count. We haven't spotted anything the bodies have in common, they've only taken one of a particular species, no duplicates, so the trophy hunter theory seems as good as any. The notes you gave us from Gwen, we've added them to the analysis, again, a copy is in your inbox.”  
  
Ianto nodded, but couldn't help thinking that he preferred the old fashioned 'a copy is on your desk' over the inbox idea.  
  
“Dave, your minions got anything for us yet?”  
  
Tilting his head from side to side to show his reluctance, Dave leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table until one of the other technicians slapped them off with a frown. Grinning sheepishly, he rested his pizza in his palm and shrugged.   
  
“Hard to say. Nothing that new, but then again we're looking at an established event, it's more a history trawl than anything new. Did find a couple of reports of suspicious behaviour, big lorries, dead of night, men in black kind of stuff up near...” He hesitated, digging through his pockets and pulling out an iPad with a cover showing what Ianto vaguely recognised as a Star Wars Rebel Alliance symbol.   
  
“Up near... Pwllgloyw?” He tried to say, mangling it badly before Ianto stepped in and corrected him. “Right, yeah, that place, but I've been looking into it and I think it's just a dodgy sat nav update sending some Polish lorry drivers the wrong way, there's a bit of a glitch in that area. Might be worth double checking though, see if any new people have moved in-”  
  
“Will do,” a voice piped up and even though Ianto couldn't see her clearly he knew by the Irish accent it had to be Annabelle. “I can cross reference it with what we've found on traffic reports, utility company billings, companies house etc. to see what's in the area just in case.”  
  
“Cheers,” Dave said quickly round a mouth full of pizza before swallowing, having taken advantage of the distraction to try and sneak more food in. “I've also got a list of a few places with unusual power cuts, not just the scheduled ones, internet outages, could be normal technical issues but as you said this thing would draw a lot of power figured it might help to compare to the official list of issues...”  
  
“Email it to me?” Annabelle asked, finally sliding through the group to be visible over Dave's shoulder, yet another hand held computer in evidence. Ianto was almost ready to consider getting one of his own, if only to keep up with the kids.  
  
Closing his eyes briefly, Ianto leaned back in his chair. Kids. He'd just thought of a couple of adults just five or so years younger than him as kids. He was definitely getting old.  
  
“Yep, that's no problem, we can run these,” Annabelle nodded, taking advantage of her position near the front to raid the spring roll box before moving back to her seat around the outside of the main circle.  
  
“Okay...” Dave said slowly, checking his notes again and grabbing a sip from his bottle. “Like I say, it's mostly checking through the past reports for any clues so nothing's leaping out so far. Unless you're interested in haunted houses?” he added with a smirk.  
  
“Haunted houses?” Ianto asked quietly, shaking his head. “Genuine, fairground or the tourist attractions?”  
  
The smirk left Dave's face and he quickly checked his notes again, clearly having intended it as a joke. “Ummm... Some old manor house up near Port Talbot, been abandoned for ages, not worth listing, just a derelict. Local kids went up there for a joke and posted footage on youtube of what they claimed were ghosts but to be honest look more like weird blobs, no clear profiles, kind of like those robot-ghost things when I was a kid.”  
  
He didn't notice the way Ianto and Cassie looked at each other, wondering how it could be that that was long enough ago for anyone to have 'been' a kid during the Cybermen incident and not be now.  
  
“Only added it in because there have been a few power outages up there, even before the power station problems, and the 'ghost' footage was taken during a blackout, there shouldn't have been any chances for normal light tricks etc.. and the vid was clean for signs of alteration, right Lila?”  
  
His roommate nodded. “No signs of any video editing, the kids have no real history of stunts, and from the looks of their blogs they don't even know how to spell check let alone have enough technical skills to do anything serious.”  
  
“Might be something, might be nothing,” Ianto admitted. “Lois, work with Annabelle and the current search teams, see if there's anything in the archives about that place.”  
  
Nodding, she made a few notes on her notepad and gave him a brief smile. “On it.”  
  
“Actually boss,” Dave added as an afterthought, “there's rumours on the net of a gathering at the house tonight, bunch of locals gonna go up there and pretty much have a ghost hunt.”  
  
“A ghost hunt,” Ianto said, deadpan.  
  
“Most probably an excuse to get drunk and have sex, so orgy may be a more accurate description,” John added with a grin. “Maybe we should check it out, y'know, make sure none of the kiddies get spooked.”  
  
“Good idea,” Ianto agreed, half the table suddenly jerking their heads to look at him. “Noddy, you look young enough to blend in, you and Big Ears head over to the house and take a look. Just a simple recon, nothing fancy.”  
  
Noddy looked up from his place at the table, a pair of chopsticks still hovering on their way to his mouth and grinned as Big Ears draped an arm over his shoulders. “Me?”  
  
Most of the team laughed as Ianto nodded, motioning to Dave to pass the details over to Big Ears. “You. Both of you. Just try not to get too carried away with any orgy you might come across.”  
  
“Or if you need a hand, just give me a call,” John added quickly, openly leering at the young soldier and ignoring the protective glare Big Ears was giving him. “Always happy to help a man out of uniform...”  
  
“I'll warn Andy,” Ianto said quickly, trying to bring the meeting back under control again. “Right, who's next?”  
  
**************************************** **********************  
  
Ianto glanced at his watch and frowned as he realised the time. Nodding to Lois, he stood up from the table and looked at the debris of food and rubbish everywhere. “Right, it's getting late, time to start heading off in a bit but first, make sure you dispose of all the food waste in the sealed bins, please remember how sick Charlie blob got last time he came across some leftover spring roll.” A few chuckles filled the air as Ianto hurried past Lois, heading out to the main office. “Everyone who has sensitive experiments, make sure they are on the red supply before you leave.”  
  
Dropping a hand on Johnson's shoulder as he passed, she took the cue and instantly rose to follow him, heading off to withdraw the weapons for the evenings patrols before locking up for the night. At their departure, Lois stood too, taking over.  
  
“Right, it's a blackout night so you know the drill, newbies...” she checked her notes on her pad quickly. “Jasmine and Dean, Hugh's going to escort you home. Rest of you, pair up as usual or take your chances, I'm not your mother. If you haven't remembered your own torch, I have some spares but if you don't bring it right back again tomorrow, I will start fining you. Yes, Dave, I mean you,” she added at a few sniggers. “Any questions?”  
  
“Come on Lois, we're big boys and girls, we're not afraid of the dark, I'm sure we'll be fine.”  
  
“Really?” She looked up, mock surprise on her face as she stared down the speaker. “That's good to know, maybe you would like to volunteer for duty on the Weevil rounds tonight then? Or perhaps you would like to handle the next Wraitheen messenger?”  
  
Jack heard one of the technicians ask her neighbour what a Wraitheen was and grinned at the answer. “Imagine intergalactic Fed Ex run by creatures that look like Dementors.”  
  
“That's aliens,” the lad said back, “it's different, only kids are afraid of the dark.”  
  
Jack and John turned to look at each other incredulously before laughing out loud, everyone turning to look at them. Jack could see the glint of mischief in John's eye and even though he knew he shouldn't he just couldn't resist.  
  
Leaning forward on the table, he fixed the young man with a steely stare and lowered his voice, gentle and smooth but with an edge of tension in it. “Think about what you just said. Most humans are instinctively afraid of the dark, or heights, they act on reflex. Do you really think all those humans all fearing something as simple as a shift in light levels is really just a coincidence? It's not just chance, it's a survival instinct.” Leaning back in the chair, he felt every pair of eyes follow him and tried not to grin. Hooked.  
  
“That's the thing about the darkness and shadows. You spend so much time as a kid having to learn not to fear them, learning to trust that when you turn out the light you're still safe and alone. You lie in your bed and close your eyes and pretend nothing's changed, even though at the back of your mind there's still a little voice screaming at the dark and wanting you to hide, wrap yourself around the nearest human being and just stay still. Because maybe, just maybe, if you aren't alone, then you'll be safe.”  
  
John shifted at last beside him, taking up the tale. “There are more things in this universe than you can even dream of, and sometimes, just sometimes, people go into the dark and never get out. And you're right, most of the time it's silly to be afraid of the dark, 'cause there's nothing there.”  
  
“But every now and then,” Jack said, “the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and that little voice is whispering in your skull that there's something there with you, in the dark, watching you, breathing in your ear, right behind you-”  
  
“You can feel it on your skin,” John carried on, “even though you know there's nothing there with you, you can't see it, or hear it really, but you can sense it, the oldest part of your brain screaming at you to run-”  
  
“You can't move, too afraid to let it know you know it's there, but then, then you see it, it's right there, it's reaching for you, then suddenly-”  
  
Startled cries and screams made them all jump as a loud mixture of beeps and alerts cut through the air, alarms and snatches of music coming from most of the technicians' electronic devices and making them all laugh at their own fright. Jack was startled, then just frowned as the kids as one began to get up, hurrying to grab their things and tidy up.  
  
“What was that?” He asked quietly and Lois smiled, switching off something on her own phone.   
  
“Text alert. The power company has this service you can sign up to, gives you an automatic one hour warning before a scheduled power outage. The idea is it gives you time to find your torches, candles, all that stuff and make sure anything that needs proper shutting down like computers has time to be saved and powered down safely. Also gives you a last chance to charge your phone,” she added, frowning at her own. “Which I'd better do, even twenty minutes charge will help. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen...”  
  
**************************************** ********  
  
The two Captains watched as the team hurriedly cleared up and trickled out of the conference room, leaving them alone. “Don't you have any chores to do?” Jack asked quietly.  
  
“Nope. Just waiting for Johnson.”  
  
“Are you patrolling then?”  
  
Laughing, John shook his head and just grinned. “Only around her bedroom.”  
  
“Oh. So she really wasn't joking earlier...”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Oh.” Jack hesitated. “Does she know about you and Ianto?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“And she doesn't mind?”  
  
Shrugging, John rose to his feet, finally deciding it was time to head out, but stopped by the door and turned back with a grin. “What can I say? If I didn't know better I'd swear she was a 51st century girl.”  
  
Whistling softly, Jack couldn't help grinning back, knowing that was John's version of high praise. “Sounds like a perfect match.”  
  
“It works for us,” John admitted, his hand on the door handle before being unable to resist turning back again. “Doesn't mean I'd turn down a rematch though-”  
  
John hurried through the door as a stray pen came flying towards it and grinned to himself as he pulled it shut again. This was far too easy.  
  
But a hell of a lot of fun.  
  
  
**************************************** ***  
  
“So, that's it for the night?” Jack asked as he watched Ianto chase the last of the technicians out, John having left with Johnson, a smirk, and a wish to 'have a good blackout' a few minutes earlier. They had fifteen minutes until the power was due to be cut, all the equipment that could be shut down was off, and the vital stuff moved over onto the protected supply. Ianto flicked the last switches and the lights clicked off, the soft LED glow of a few pieces all that remained in the empty space.  
  
“That's it. Early night for once.”  
  
“Right...” Jack watched as Ianto activated the security systems, the soft beeps somehow nowhere near as reassuring as the rumble of the old hub door. There was something to be said for good old fashioned stone and metal. Even if it had proved pretty vulnerable still in the end. “Can I...” He waited as Ianto pushed him out of the airlock style security seal, pulling the door closed behind them, then waiting as a soft flicker of light seemed to glow from its edges.  
  
“Can you what?” Ianto asked, distracted as he finished his checks and pocketed his security cards, pointing Jack to the lift.  
  
“Can I walk you home?”  
  
Ianto stopped, half in the lift and half in the corridor and just stared at Jack, a small smile on his lips. “You want to walk home with me?”  
  
“Yeah.” Jack shuffled closer, moving into the small doorway beside Ianto and leaning in close, wanting so much to just grab him and push him into the lift, pull the emergency stop and hide there all night until the power came back on. Instead, he felt an answering smile tug at the side of his mouth and leaned back against the lift doors. “It's a dark night, big city, killer seagulls...”  
  
Ianto laughed nervously and finally moved into the lift, keeping to the opposite side to Jack as he mirrored the move and pressed the button. “I think I can handle myself Jack, I don't need you to protect me.”  
  
“How about you can protect me?” Ianto laughed again, fiddling with the Maglite torch in his hand and shaking his head as Jack carried on. “You know, earlier, we were chatting to the kids about being afraid of the dark. Daft, but I kind of am a bit.”  
  
“You?”  
  
Jack shrugged. “I never said it was a logical fear-”  
  
Ianto softened. “I think if anyone has a legitimate reason to be afraid of the dark, Jack, it's you.”  
  
“I guess. It's just it's something I always had. My friend used to tell me those stories when we were growing up, about the things that live in the shadows, that eat you-” Jack chuckled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “It's always hard remembering some of those creatures really aren't on Earth, well, not in Cardiff anyway.”  
  
“Rhi used to tell me ghost stories when I was a kid,” Ianto admitted as the lift doors opened again and they made their way out into the car park. “Used to try to make me jump, but I just loved them, I guess I knew even then there are more important things to be scared of than stories.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jack agreed, looking round the car park as Ianto triggered the locks on his car. “So, you drive home?”  
  
Pausing, Ianto turned to throw him a strange look. “When you said walk, you really meant walk?”  
  
Jack nodded, moving closer in the dimly light space. “I know it's gonna sound corny and a come on, and I know you want to take things slow, I respect that, no coffee, no nightcaps, no asking to come up and see your etchings-”  
  
“Etchings?” Ianto said with a stifled smile.  
  
“I just...” Jack paused, trying to explain. “It looks like a really clear night and it's been a long time since I've seen the stars over Cardiff, I mean really seen. The city may not be big but you don't notice how much the lights dim the view until they're gone. I just, well, I wanted to take a walk under the starlight.” Jack laughed, shaking his head and bringing his hand up to his neck again. “Okay, it's worse than just corny, I am reaching Gene Kelly levels of cheesiness, go,” he said quickly, pointing at the car, “before it's too late! It might be contagious!”  
  
Ianto laughed too, considering for a moment before clicking his key fob again and locking the car back up. “A walk in the starlight.”  
  
“Uh huh.”  
  
“Just a walk,” he warned quickly.  
  
“I promise.” Jack shrugged. “Besides, I'd like to know where you live, not come up-” he hastily added, “that's your space, whenever you're ready, but I, I'd like to know where it is. In case of emergency.”  
  
Grinning, Ianto rolled his eyes and reached out for Jack's hand, nodding as he tugged the immortal – his ex, he reminded himself quickly, they weren't a couple again, not yet – and guided him to the street exit. “In case of emergency only. Okay.”  
  
As they emerged into the street, Ianto looked up and checked his watch, nodding to himself as the lights began to flicker off across the street and he clicked on his torch.  
  
“Ianto.”  
  
“Yes, 'Gene'?”  
  
“So, if I have a bad dream and need someone to hug at 3am, that's an appropriate emergency right?”  
  
**************************************** ******  
  
“You really don't have to walk me home, I'm quite alright.”  
  
“Hey, we just happen to be patrolling this way, right Ben?”  
  
“That's right Bill.”  
  
“And if we happen to be patrolling all the way to your front door at the same time as you happen to be walking this way, well, that's just a coincidence.”  
  
Lois laughed and sighed in resignation, settling instead for linking her arms through theirs and feeling oddly like Dorothy on her way to see the wizard. Not that either of the hardened soldiers beside her would be happy with the comparison to the Cowardly Lion, nor the Scarecrow. And she had already worked out that whatever else may be lurking in their past, their hearts were quite firmly in the right place.  
  
Letting them worry about lighting their path with the torches, Lois contented herself to look around and enjoy the walk. It really was a lovely night, chilly but clear, with the stars watching over them like tiny eyes in the darkness.  
  
Actually, that was a creepy thought and Lois pushed it away quickly, focusing instead on the feel of the two men beside her. They were both so much taller than her, towering over her slender frame, and solidly built. They both had their hair cropped so short she couldn't be sure of the colour, whether they were actually brunette or blond, the dusting not enough to really be any one colour, more a smudge of shadow over their skin than hair. With their similar builds and attitude, the pair really did seem more like brothers at first, hard to tell apart from a distance, but she was starting to get to know them well enough to spot the differences.  
  
Ben's eyes were dark, their brown an intense shade that reminded her of melting chocolate, warm and tempting, and there was a softness to his gaze that she had mentally nicknamed his puppy dog eyes. Despite his gruff manner and appearance he was surprisingly gentle, his arm hooked through hers just guiding her, his hand resting over her wrist every now and then to reassure her or warn her of an obstacle ahead. His hands were also softer than she would ever have thought, his fingertips warm and smooth as they brushed over her skin. She had never seen him use hand cream or anything similar and couldn't help wondering if he maybe used some kind of lotion or oil, maybe straight after the shower-  
  
Blushing, in spite of the darkness ensuring neither of them had seen her face, Lois hastily shook off the thought of Ben naked and glistening. It hadn't been  _that_  long, there was no need to start fantasising about jumping her colleagues in the middle of the street...  
  
It was a lot of fun though.   
  
She could imagine Ben to be a gentle lover, his strength held back and focused only on protecting, never on hurting, loyal and steadfast until the end. Lois could see him in a soft bed, candles all around, his fingers content to stray for hours over his lover's skin, never worrying about his own needs but devoting all his attention to her, to making her feel like the most beautiful woman alive. She could imagine his fingers, long and smooth, exploring every single inch of her, lingering until she begged for him, before finally making love to her slowly, his movements soft and lingering, as if he could last for hours, just for her...  
  
Ben had surprised everyone at a meeting once, by speaking up and correctly identifying some obscure literary quote one of the technicians had been using to show off, instantly throwing everyone off their stride, the whole room falling silent. He had not spoken up since, but she had finally found the confidence to talk to both of them properly after they rescued her from the lift shaft just a few days before. She had been delighted to learn he had a literary degree and wrote poetry. A warrior and a poet in one, strength and gentleness married together in the ideal man, a perfect gentleman who would never dream of trying to seduce her.  
  
More was the pity, Lois admitted to herself.   
  
A tug from Bill brought her attention back to the present, but not in time to avoid the raised paving slab, her boot catching it and making her stumble. Bill was instantly there, his grip firm and holding her up, his fingers so tight on her skin she thought they might leave bruises.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“I'm fine, just a trip.” Smiling, she nodded to him and he grinned back, all teeth and wolfish and she could feel herself blushing again for quite a different reason.  
  
Bill, now he was a different matter altogether. He turned his attention back to their path again, leaving her with her thoughts as she looked at the way the reflected light from the torches cast deep shadows over his face. His eyes were blue, icy and almost translucent, cold and unforgiving. When in a flattering light, he reminded her of Daniel Craig, especially in the Bond movies, that same fierce and unflinching attitude that could kill the bad guy then screw the girl without even pausing to put his gun away first.   
  
In a bad light he was closer to the Mitchell brothers on Eastenders, but she tried to ignore that.  
  
When she looked at him, sometimes she could believe the rumours about the work Johnson's team had been up to before. There was a cruelty to his smile that contrasted so completely with Ben's gentleness that she sometimes wondered if they were like mirror images of the same man, a split soul, torn in two and caught between the darkness and the light. Unlike Ben's gentle touches, Bill's grip on her was too firm even now, her arm almost pinned against his body, tight enough to be uncomfortable. She was almost feeling like she was trapped, a helpless prisoner being marched off to some fate worse than death, rather than a young woman being escorted home by her friends.  
  
Helpless. Now that was a fantasy that had surprised even her when she had first thought about Bill in that way. To be completely helpless to resist, totally at his mercy and like some old fashioned black and white film star, swooning in his arms, his fingers ripping at her clothes, ravishing her completely, hard and fast and...   
  
It was so unlike everything she had ever been raised to think was right, and she could hear her mum's voice in her head declaring in no uncertain terms that no man should ever tell her baby girl what to do, and part of her was nodding wholeheartedly. It was old fashioned, misogynistic, and she was a confident 21st century girl, she would never, ever, want to be treated like that.  
  
Except, in a tiny corner of her mind where she would never admit to it, and would probably never actually even want it in reality, the fantasy persisted. The thought of Bill swinging her up off her feet and over his shoulder, of fighting against him as he carried her off, throwing her down to the bed as she struggled against him before the kiss, of fighting for a little longer before giving in to what she really wanted...  
  
Of course, the fantasy where she tied him down and tormented him for hours before finally riding him hard, using him beyond pleasure and into pain, his body nothing but a plaything for her every whim, that fantasy lived in the same little corner of her mind. They made odd neighbours, the dominatrix and the damsel glaring at each other uneasily.  
  
Then there was real Lois. Shy, smart, a damn fine administrator and PA and a handsome enough woman, conscientious and loyal - and right now pinned between two men, either (or indeed both if she was feeling particularly honest) of whom she would love to invite up to her flat, but neither of whom she would ever be brave enough to make the first move with, no matter how tempting it might be.  
  
Instead, she made small talk about the weather, the night air, about poetry and the latest films until they reached her door. Unlocking her door, she flicked on her own torch and checked the way up was clear before finally bidding them goodnight. Bill shot her a look that went right to her spine, his gaze almost seeing straight into her mind, as though trying to hypnotise her into inviting him up or just dropping to the floor and having him right there in the hall. Whereas Ben looked so forlorn at the thought of parting that she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him tight, locking him in with her and never letting the daylight ever take him away.  
  
Waving goodnight, Lois locked the door with slightly shaky fingers and leaned against it. Bill, Ben, Captain Hart, Ianto, even Noddy, and now Captain Harkness, how was a girl supposed to get any work done with them around?  
  
Grinning to herself, Lois blew out a long breath before nodding and almost jogging up the stairs, despite the dark. Just because she couldn't have them in reality, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy an early night with her soft sheets – and a very active imagination...  
  
**************************************  
  
Ianto couldn't help glancing at Jack as they walked, no longer hand in hand but still side by side. Jack was looking around as though he hadn't seen the city before, but in spite of the fact that everything looked different in such darkness, Ianto suspected it was deeper than that. He could see Jack looking for differences in the city, a shop having changed hands here, a boarded up building there or a new restaurant. There was a steady stream of people around in spite of the darkness, laughs and voices filling the air still as they wandered around. The occasional police officer stood out in the torchlights, a flash of high visibility clothing breaking up the night.  
  
“I would've thought it would be quieter than this,” Jack admitted as a group of girls split to go past them, glowing necklaces around their necks and bracelets on their wrists making them look like some bizarre UFO encounter. “Where is everyone going?” Ianto pointed his torch over a poster stuck into the window of a disused shop, the black background showing off the white writing perfectly. The advert was for a blackout party and Jack read it with a slight grin. “Okay, I know I'm old fashioned, but how do you get modern kids to have a party with no power?”  
  
“You hire local bands to do acoustic numbers, unplugged stuff, for entertainment. Some of the restaurants have hired in staff from those restaurants that serve food in the dark, you know, using blind waiters, so that customers have to focus on the taste more? There's even a club that literally fills their dance floor with beanbags and use this glow in the dark tape and glow sticks to mark out pathways through it. You'd be surprised at how inventive people can be.”  
  
“I thought kids nowadays were all iPods and gadgets, how do they cope without electricity?”  
  
Laughing, Ianto watched a group of young lads whoop at the sight of a glow in the dark arrow painted onto the pavement guiding them to one of the clubs. “They cope just fine, Jack, humanity hasn't completely regressed since the 1940's.”  
  
“I never-” Jack stopped, his face guilty as he realised he'd been busted. “Okay, so maybe I was thinking of it a bit. Can't blame me, last time the city was this dark at night the women were still painting lines on the back of their legs for stockings and there would be a warden telling you to put that light out.”  
  
“It's a bit different now,” Ianto admitted, “at one of the clubs they've broken out industrial flares and everyone wears their iPods and dances to their own music in this dark club. Local health and safety has had to be a bit more lenient than usual, but so far there's been no major incidents, just a couple of bruised egos.” Jack raised an eyebrow and Ianto grinned. “There's this firm that basically take over empty properties in the city and open them up during the blackout as ghost houses; a few props, a few members of staff waiting to jump out of dark corners, it doesn't really take much.”  
  
“Sounds like fun.”  
  
“It should be. But there have been a couple of kids freaking out about it, running out screaming that there was something in there, that sort of thing. One guy, his mates filmed him running out of the house like a terrified little girl and put it on youtube. That one went viral, which of course has made the blackout parties and ghost houses more popular than ever, but the guy who freaked out has had a bit of a hard time about it.” Ianto shrugged and continued. “It's a tough little city Jack, we cope, we adapt.”  
  
“And you?” Jack asked quietly.  
  
“I cope, I adapt,” Ianto admitted, his torch beam flickering slightly as he fiddled with the switch. “I won't say it's been easy. And I won't say it's easy having you back in my life so suddenly, it's like-” He stopped and Jack could almost feel the darkness between them growing, separating them from each other with every second until Ianto finally spoke again. “Part of me wants nothing more than to protect myself, to make you go away again so I can get back to being alone again, knowing it's never going to get any worse, that each day will be easier until it doesn't hurt any more.”  
  
Jack blew out a shaky breath and found himself suddenly gazing steadfastly at his own boot tips as they carried on walking, on the light from the torch bobbing on the paving stones ahead of them, anything but Ianto's face. He couldn't look, because he knew exactly how that felt, all too well. Each new parting, each grief hurt so much, each new death of someone he loved bringing back every single one that had gone before and making it harder, not easier, to carry on. Yet at the same time he knew it would pass, that he would smile again, and flirt and fuck and it would be okay. He would be okay.  
  
But it didn't mean it hurt any less. Or that he wouldn't try to avoid feeling that way ever again.  
  
“It's safer that way,” Jack admitted, his hands digging into his coat pockets, suddenly cold in a way that had nothing to do with the night air. “You should be safe.”  
  
“You say that like this life means I can never feel that way, that being near you-” Ianto paused, trying to find the words. “I love my job, Jack, I love the work I – we – do, I love making a difference. And I accept the danger, I do. Even with you and me, I know it's dangerous as hell just being near you. But that doesn't mean I can't feel safe too,” Ianto said softly. There was a catch in his voice, as though trying to decide something and he glanced at his watch before reaching out his hand.  
  
Jack glanced up as he felt fingers digging against the side of his coat, cold and fumbling a little, but determined as they burrowed into his pocket and pressed against his right hand. At the touch, they both stopped walking, even the quiet sounds of the city almost fading away as Ianto looked around, working something out. Pulling Jack's hand from his pocket, Ianto wrapped his fingers through Jack's properly.  
  
“Come with me.”  
  
Jack let himself be guided along, his eyes trying to make out familiar features in the dark night, then frowning at the sight of a flickering glow. His eyes widened as he realised it was St John the Baptist church, a soft flicker of masses of candles escaping through the windows, the sight somehow natural and right, the building looking as if it had always belonged to the dark night. In the still air, he could hear the sound of singing, a quiet hum of voices drawing people towards the church, its warm glow so welcoming against the dark.  
  
“Church?” Jack asked as Ianto just grinned and tugged on his hand, a quick squeeze of fingers reassuring him. “You want to go into church?”  
  
“No,” Ianto said, an answering tug on Jack's hand guiding them past the old building.  
  
They walked almost silently past the churchyard and into the market gardens beyond, the benches and grass full of people, young and old, sitting in the dark with candles and torches and just listening to the music in the faint glow of the church lights. It was so peaceful, a feeling of security and safety that was almost tangible in the air, like a warm blanket or a hug.   
  
Drifting through the scattering of people was like being at a reunion or party, a welcoming feeling like everyone was pleased to see you as they caught your eye. There were a handful of couples, a few groups of youngsters, but there were also some older couples, their fingers intertwined as they sat out in the dark.  
  
Jack let Ianto guide him through the shadows, Ianto's hand over the light of his torch, dulling its glare to a muted red, more to be seen than to see. Finally he led them to a far corner of the small garden park, a patch of dark grass welcoming them. Pulling Jack down, Ianto sat them both down on the cold ground, the first soft hints of the dew that would follow with the dawn seeping through their clothes and making Jack shift to pull his coat under him better.   
  
“It's not just the youngsters who want to go out on a blackout night,” Ianto whispered, the borrowed light from people's candles and torches, the church, and the red glow of his torch through his fingers casting a flickering glow over his features. “People seem to want to be in company, to not be alone in the dark. The church offers special blackout services, a candlelit mass, encouraging people to come and worship, kind of like midnight mass at Christmas I guess.”  
  
“Listen to it,” Ianto whispered quietly, his body leaning against Jack's with a gentle pressure, their still joined hands resting on Jack's thigh. Jack could hear the soft music, the sound of the organ drifting lazily through the night air like a siren song, drawing people to it and away from the chatter and bustle of the more modern shopping streets and into this little oasis. He was still surprised by how many people were there, but their presence was somehow soothing, as though it was shining through the night and pushing all the shadows away.  
  
“How do you feel?” Ianto asked, his voice so low and soft Jack almost had to strain to hear it. Relaxing into the sounds, concentrating on the singing and whispers in the dark, the damp smell of the earth and gardens, the feel of the blades of grass tickling his outstretched fingers and the warmth of Ianto beside him, he smiled.  
  
“Safe.”  
  
He could feel the slight shift of Ianto beside him, fingers tracing their way along Jack's jaw and tilting his head upwards a little before there was the press of lips against his, soft yet firm, not hungry or passionate, just there, comforting and giving. The music seemed to counterpoint the action, surging upwards as they shifted together, offering and taking nothing more than the kiss itself, their entwined fingers tightening just a little. It was warm and comforting and a moment Jack was more than happy to lose himself in, the world fading away and leaving just them.  
  
As the kiss broke off, Ianto's eyes were all Jack could see, deep dark pools in the shadowy night. “Part of me wants just this,” Ianto admitted, his hand dropping from Jack's face to rest on the grass between them again. “To stay this calm and safe, to never be in danger and just grow old like this. To be like them,” he added, a nod of his head to the side making Jack look at an older couple on one of the benches, the woman's head resting lightly on her husband's shoulder.   
  
“But there's no such thing as a safe life, it passes so quickly, this night, this moment is just a second and it's gone. Everyone has their losses and griefs, Jack. But worse than that are the regrets.” Jack could feel the soft huff of Ianto's sigh against his chin and had to resist the urge to tilt up into another kiss. “Part of me wants this, to be safe and secure, even if it means never feeling like I do with you again, as long as it means I never hurt again. But that would mean losing a much bigger part of myself.”  
  
“What part is that?” Jack asked, his voice grating slightly on the whisper, almost turning it into a moan.  
  
“The part that wants you. The part that wants to drag you away from this garden, to break into the market and throw you down between the stalls and just take you.”  
  
Jack could feel his breath catching at the thought, of just hiding away again and being with Ianto, avoiding all the little niggles and distractions of the day, of the reality around them and just being them, and nothing else. He wanted that so much, but knew it would just be delaying the inevitable.  
  
“I don't always like that part of me,” Ianto admitted, “the person I am around you, the person I have to be at work, the things I have to do and deals I've struck to make this all work. But I think of the alternative, the person I could be, and I don't like what I see.”  
  
“What do you see,” Jack asked, curious as to how Ianto pictured his world without Torchwood, without the mission and purpose. Without Jack.  
  
Ianto's lip twisted up slightly as he spoke, making his face look cold and hard. “I see me in a dead end job moving pieces of paper or emails around. I see me going on those blind dates my sister keeps trying to set me up on and bluffing my way through relationships with people I feel nothing for. I see the months turning into years until one day I have the house, the partner, the dogs or kids and DIY on the weekends and I don't even recognise the face I see in the mirror.”  
  
“Not that I do anyway,” he added, so softly Jack almost didn't catch it.  
  
This time it was Jack who moved, his damp fingers rising up from the grass to brush over Ianto's cheek, the tips of his fingers sliding tenderly over the small ridge of the scar. Ianto could smell the earth on Jack's fingertips, could feel the slight drag of the dew against his skin and the coldness of Jack's touch before their lips even met. As they kissed, the music in the church rose again, almost as though the choirs of angels themselves were grateful that the pair of them were finally making a move. Ianto half expected applause and some sort of rising orchestral accompaniment, or for the credits to roll for the happy ending of the movie.  
  
Instead, there was the sound of the church doors opening and the soft murmur of a crowd on the move and shifting bodies in the dark around them. Jack pulled back, whether out of fear of being seen or simply sensing the moment was over, Ianto could not be sure. But as he lowered his hand again, there was that smile playing over Jack's lips, that gleam in his eye that suggested he was thinking of Ianto, of picking the lock of the market and finding some quiet spot to take him, to hold him-  
  
Instead, Jack smiled more broadly and looked at Ianto, his face as open and honest as Ianto had ever seen it. “You've always looked the same to me. You look like you.”  
  
Ianto revised his earlier thought; this was the moment for the big finish, for the curtain to drop and for them to ride off into the sunset. Instead, Jack shifted to his knees, letting go of Ianto as they stood up, moving a little uneasily as people began to wander past, heading home at last. Jack offered his hand to help Ianto up, his bad leg suddenly stiff with the cold and making him wince, but even when he was upright Jack didn't let go.  
  
“Come on,” Jack said quietly, the smile gone and replaced with something deeper, unfathomable. “We'd better get you home. Busy day tomorrow.”  
  
Nodding, Ianto squeezed Jack's hand once then let go, mindful of the crowds around them and the occasional curious look thrown their way. The safe feeling had dispersed along with the congregation and the music fading, the reality of the night around them and the not always friendly attitudes of the locals making him feel the fear again. Some things never changed.  
  
But some things did. And that wasn't always a bad thing. Ianto led them out of the gardens and into the trickle of people heading home, and didn't speak again until they said goodnight. Watching Jack go from the window of his flat, Ianto could feel himself ache with the desire to call him back, to give in to his feelings and just not be alone.  
  
Not yet. But soon. He just needed a little longer.  
  
**************************************** ***********  
  
Noddy grinned as he took in the spooky house up ahead, the car slowing as Big Ears negotiated their way into the drive, avoiding a wobbly pair of teenage girls in heels that were totally unsuitable for the overgrown gravel. The house was big, not horror movie big and no Gothic architecture, but somehow the sheer domesticity of it was more scary, like the Amityville house. Leaning forward in the passenger seat, Noddy peered up at the dark sky and tried to make out what he could of the building as the headlights of various cars picked out its form.  
  
It was almost disappointing that he couldn't see more of it, or that it wasn't suddenly illuminated by a streak of lightning and a surge of orchestral music. As though picking up on his thoughts, Big Ears grinned wickedly and began humming, a low and mournful tune that seemed to fill the car until Noddy flicked out a hand to hit him on the chest.   
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Oh come on, like you weren't hearing it in your head. We're going to a haunted house, needs a little accompaniment. Some strings, a little bass guitar...”  
  
Shaking his head, Noddy undid his seatbelt and twisted around to grab his bag from the back seat. The car was a beat up Fiesta, absolutely nothing special, no hidden extras, and borrowed from one of the technicians who had made Big Ears swear to take good care of it. It fitted in perfectly with the second hand or older cars cluttering the abandoned drive. The question was, would they manage to fit in with the students, teenagers and ghost hunters inside?  
  
Noddy brushed down the side of his simple black backpack and flicked open the side pocket, grabbing his cigarettes and slipping them into the breast pocket of his jacket instead. It was an ordinary black jacket, not that dissimilar to his usual uniform but with far more zips visible and a completely impractical look about it. That was why he liked it; the uniform was great but he was still chafing at always being on duty whilst surrounded by so many others his own age wearing whatever the hell they liked. On the rare nights they were off, and there was no emergency, he liked nothing better than to slip on a t-shirt from one of his favourite bands and jeans and just head out into the city like any other young man on a night out.  
  
Of course, most weren't accompanied by Big Ears. There was nothing like having an overprotective older soldier watching out for you. And there was really nothing worse than that soldier being your brother who had been doing exactly the same thing all your life.  
  
Big Ears blew out a long, contented sigh and pushed a slightly longer lock of his brown hair back from his face, the style looking exactly what it was; hair that hadn't been cut for a year. “Recon at a party. I knew this job would have its good days. Just make sure you don't get eaten alive by those girls, little brother.”  
  
Noddy laughed, ignoring him as he shifted to check his own reflection in the mirror, his dirty blonde fringe gelled back into the rest of his hair. Even just for hairstyle choices, Torchwood definitely beat the army, although a couple of years ago he would never have believed that possible. He could still vividly remember the day his career, his beliefs, his view on  _everything_  had changed, the day when he had truly found out about the world outside of orders and petty dictators and sandy battlefields. The day the 456 came.  
  
He had still been going through his intelligence corps training, and could vividly remember watching stunned with the rest of the world as the children went crazy, hearing mad rumours that army personnel were being mobilised to steal children from their schools and homes. He had still been reeling from that news, from the thought that his friends, his colleagues, his fellow soldiers could ever obey an order like that when he had been taken aside and informed that his brother had been killed. It had been the worst 24 hours of his life.  
  
Right up until he had been awoken in the middle of the night to find a very familiar face grinning down at him.   
  
He had never been sure which was more terrifying, the thought of going AWOL with the brother who had managed to keep his true job a secret, even from his brother, or the fact that Noddy had believed he was dead on nothing more than someone else's say so. He'd always thought he would just know, would feel it somehow, if anything had happened to him. Instead, he had just felt like an idiot for ever doubting his brother was alive and found himself going along with whatever they said, too shocked to speak and instead just nodding the whole time like one of those stupid nodding dogs on the back ledge of a car.  
  
It hadn't taken long for that to become his nickname. And of course, once a childhood photo of the pair of them had been unearthed, Big Ears had quickly become his constant companion in name as well as life. They only used their real names around each other, and only when completely safe to do so, the paranoia so engrained now that they didn't even notice it any more. But there was something comforting about knowing that if he ever wanted to hear it, ever needed to remember where he had come from and who he really was, his brother was right there to remind him.  
  
As with most big brothers though, Big Ears was quite frequently there to remind him of the things he'd rather forget too...  
  
Flicking the slightly shorter than fashionable, but a hell of a lot better than new-recruit-shorn, dirty blond locks of his fringe, Noddy smiled and checked his teeth. His brother had always been the better looking or at least more popular one, at least as far as past experience had taught Noddy, but he held his own. When out with the lads, he always managed to find a girl willing to share a dark corner or a warm bed with him. Or, when he was in different company, sometimes a guy instead.   
  
Torchwood was infinitely better than the army on  _that_  one too...  
  
Content, Noddy sat back and slipped his hand around the strap on his bag as Big Ears grabbed his own and nodded. “Ready?”  
  
“Ready,” Noddy replied, grabbing his torch from the footwell and flicking it on, holding it under his chin like they had used to do when they were kids telling ghost stories. “You wanna be Ray or Egon tonight?”  
  
“Tell you what,” Big Ears said, flicking his own torch on, “I'll be Ray, you be Peter. Just as long as you don't-”  
  
“-you don't cross the streams,” Noddy finished, that smile lighting up his face again as he opened the door, humming the Ghostbusters' theme under his breath. Looking up at the dark house, he could see the faint flashes of torches and silhouettes on the filthy windows and the tune faded away as he felt a thrill of excitement. “Forget the Ghostbusters,” he whispered to himself, shifting the bag onto his bag and hearing the slosh of vodka, their 'entry fee', inside. “We're fucking Torchwood.”  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Big Ears leaned back against the wall lazily, his body language as relaxed as his jeans and denim jacket as he dangled a beer bottle between his fingers, but his eyes alert and roaming the room. There may not have been any power and the décor was more tattered 1970's kitsch than Gothic pleasure, but the party was still fairly good. Music was playing in most rooms, small speakers and iPods or iPhones blasting out their tinny tunes and providing a little ambience.   
  
The upstairs rooms held the 'real ghost hunters', a scattering of kids running around with night vision cameras and far too much energy to hear anything supernatural above their own clattering footsteps, never mind the party downstairs. It hadn't taken the brothers long to look around and see all that was going on upstairs. There were a few amorous couples making out, a very giggly séance, complete with ouija board, was taking place in the bedroom overlooking the front of the house, and a hippy looking girl and a Goth had been chalking pentagrams and other symbols on the walls and looking almost disappointed when they didn't instantly open magical portals or start dripping blood.  
  
Horror movies had a lot to answer for.  
  
The rooms on the ground floor, however, held the party crowd, music and dancing in most rooms, along with a fair amount of drinking going on, and he was pretty sure a few other substances too. Kids.  
  
Noddy was dancing in the middle of the room, his head banging in time to the music as a trio of girls tried to dance with him but only really succeeded in getting in his way. Shaking his head slightly, Big Ears carried on looking round, trusting his brother to keep up their cover and give him room to work, playing the big brother card to the fullest.   
  
As he scanned the room slowly, he caught another pair of eyes watching intently and panicked for a moment as he took in the young man watching his little brother, a hundred scenarios going through his head; he recognised him from the Army AWOL notices; he knew they were Torchwood; he was a psychopath who was looking for a new victim-  
  
It wasn't until Noddy tilted his head back and raised his arms in the air as the song reached its climax, his t-shirt riding up to reveal his midriff and a flash of his boxers above the waist of his tight jeans, that Big Ears recognised the look on the stranger's face. It wasn't a threat. Not unless he considered an admirer of Noddy to be a threat anyway.  
  
Maybe, if they managed to pass this place as all clear in good time, he would point the lad out to Noddy and see if he was interested. It wouldn't have been the first time he had pointed out the signs that his brother was oblivious to when it came to men – or women.  
  
He'd known about Noddy since they were teenagers of course, although it hadn't always been obvious. The girlfriends had been numerous and hot and he had simply thought his brother a normal teenage boy having some fun. It hadn't been until they had been at the same party, Big Ears trying to find a dark corner to get to know his brief flame better, that he had spotted Noddy with a mutual friend doing something that most definitely didn't come under the usual definitions of friendly.  
  
Of course, he knew their friend Pete was gay, it was open knowledge. And, of course, to Big Ears the fact that his brother had never shown any such tendencies before  _must_  mean only one thing: Pete must have somehow forced him, maybe he had gotten Noddy drunk or stoned or just plain taken advantage of him...  
  
That friendship was gone long before Pete's black eye had even really taken shape, but it had taken weeks and a lot of talking before his relationship with his brother was back on track. It was weird, he had had gay friends before, excluding Pete, and it genuinely didn't bother him in the slightest but this... This was different, this was his little brother. Suddenly every gay joke, every 'faggot' or 'queer' insult he heard, no matter where it was directed, felt personal, felt like a threat. Every time there was a story about a gay man being beaten up his heart ached with dread, fearing that one day it would happen to his little brother.  
  
Even so, the day it had actually happened had taken him by surprise.   
  
Noddy grinned as he finally came over, the girls looking disappointed for all of five seconds before spotting another target and moving off again. Snagging the disguised alcohol free beer from his brother's fingers, Noddy took a long pull from the bottle and tried to get his breath back. It wasn't loud enough to need to shout, but Big Ears leaned in close anyway, his hand rising to his brother's shoulder as he spoke into his ear.  
  
“Room looks clear.”  
  
Noddy nodded, living up to his name once again, and pressed the bottle back into his brother's hand, tapping his fingers against Big Ears hand in a familiar gesture. Retrieving his bag from by Big Ears' feet, Noddy led the way out of the room and into the next, pausing just long enough to swig some water as he went.   
  
The music was more mellow in there, a more relaxed atmosphere that combined with the garish seventies wallpaper to make it feel like they had gone back in time. A girl, with eyeliner and mascara so thick Big Ears was sure it must be blocking her view, spotted them come in and smiled at Noddy. Stretching out a hand to him she almost dragged him towards her, his bag tumbling to the ground as he hastily dropped it by Big Ears' feet.  
  
Tucking the bag behind his ankles, Big Ears leaned against the wall and took another small sip of his beer, exaggerating the gesture to make it look like he was drinking steadily. It almost didn't work as he snorted at the sight of the girl trying to slide her hands down his brother's trousers, Noddy jumping back from her touch and pushing her away with an incredulous grin. His brother had always been the cuter one, experience teaching Big Ears that whilst he might be able to talk all evening to a girl, it was Noddy who would be taking her home afterwards.  
  
He had to admit, hooking Noddy up with boys was sometimes less a generous brotherly act of understanding and acceptance, and more a way of making sure he had a look in himself.  
  
Not tonight though. Tonight they had work to do. The room was quiet and didn't take long to check, Noddy casting increasingly astonished looks at his brother until with a subtle look Big Ears beckoned him over. Extricating himself from the girl's embrace, the brothers slipped out of the room and into the hallway, Noddy leaning against the wall for a minute and just laughing.  
  
“Did you see that? I thought she was going to try to fucking strip me or something?!”  
  
“I think that's what she had in mind. You're just too irresistible, 'Peter'.”  
  
Noddy glanced down the hallway and grinned as a pair of girls wandered past, one of them openly eyeing Big Ears up and down as she passed before her friend tugged on her hand, dragging her away again. “Likewise 'Ray'.” Leaning over and pressing his hands flat against his thighs, Noddy blew out a long breath. “Who knew having fun was so much work?”  
  
“No rest for the wicked.” Shifting his brother's bag onto his shoulder, Big Ears pointed to the next doorway. “Let's see what's behind door number five...”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Never greet a stranger in the night, for he may be a demon.”  
> Talmud

John could feel the darkness all around him, almost as tangible a presence as the woman astride him, the shadows surrounding them like another set of hands brushing over his bare skin, giving him the feeling of being watched, almost as though a whole crowd was just out of reach. It was completely pitch black in the room, nothing of Johnson's body could be seen as she rode him, and he had nothing to focus on but the feel of her fingers wrapped through his or the sensation of being inside her.   
  
There were no distractions, no need to worry about the look on his face or whether he was paying attention to her, no need to try and read her eyes for the line between pleasure and pain; not that he usually bothered to check. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the rocking of their bodies on the mattress, no sensation but them, together.  
  
He loved the blackouts. It was strange but everything felt more intense in the darkness, as though it was feeding into the act, driving them higher than ever before. The usual distractions of cars going by were less frequent in the darker nights, the neighbour's TV was not whispering through the thin walls to them, providing a bizarre commentary or musical accompaniment. The world was silent and still.  
  
Except for them. There was no need for words or instructions, they had been doing this dance for long enough not to need visual cues or pointers to work well together. The intensity of the act itself varied between aggression and need, to simple stress relief or boredom, but it was always just what they needed. Either of them could die tomorrow and the other would not mourn, would move on as before; it wasn't a relationship by anyone's standards, just a pleasant way of passing the time.  
  
It was convenient.  
  
It was also fucking hot. John bared his teeth as he thrust up into her faster, her fingers slipping free of his at last, one hand falling to his chest as the other... He had no idea where it went, but he could tell by the noise she made that she was enjoying whatever it was doing. He quickly pushed a hand through his hair, desperate for any trace of cooler air on his scalp, then slid his hands down his sides to her legs, brushing up over her thighs quickly to trace over her skin as she moved, grinding herself against his thrusts with complete abandon.   
  
Johnson was never exactly one to hold back, but even he could tell there was something different about the blackout nights. She was less efficient, more sensual and primal somehow, needing nothing more stimulating than just the act itself, but even so she seemed to demand more contact, more skin on skin, more caresses in the dark. Of course, rather than any sort of need for intimacy on her part, that could equally just be her way of checking on him, never trusting him enough to leave him to it.  
  
Yes, they were convenient, each treating the other as nothing more than a giant sex toy on occasion, but on these nights it felt somehow different. It seemed to be less as though being together was a good idea and more as though being apart, sleeping alone, was too hideous a thought to bear. On these nights, on some level, she didn't just want him, she needed him.  
  
John would never admit it, but he needed her too. He must be getting old.  
  
He could feel her movements becoming more desperate, her body tenser against his, and he picked up the pace again, slamming into her as his hands slid over her slick skin, teasing and tormenting her even as he slid his fingers up to her throat, starting to squeeze just a little and feeling her hand grip his arm in return. But she wasn't trying to stop him, it was encouragement. This was so much harder to do in the dark, harder to judge, dangerous, but he didn't care. Squeezing harder, he could hear her breath catch, feel the strain of the tendons in her neck and the way her fingers tightened around his arm.  
  
Then she was there and he could feel her body shake, the familiar shudders he knew all too well as she came, and he released his grip just a little, hearing her gasp for air as she leaned into his fingers, her body finally starting to relax. Not one to wait for long, John slid his hand across her mouth, feeling her lips brush against his palm before drawing back, sharp teeth nipping at his skin. Slapping her lightly on the cheek, he let his hands slide lower down her body, gripping her hips tight and using her body without any further thought for her, his only focus only on himself now.  
  
At least it was until her hands moved up to wrap around his throat. He didn't stop, didn't pause or hesitate as she squeezed in return, feeling his body reflexively start to fight against her and forcing himself to focus all the energy on his hips and hers. It was intense and in spite of the darkness small stars began to appear in the room, dancing across the ceiling in front of his eyes, colourful sparkles like fireworks to bring him home. It was like they were alive, mocking him as he began to run out of air, feeling his heart pound so completely, his blood rushing everywhere at once.  
  
Especially his prick. It was too much, too intense and oh so good and he could feel the roar trapped under her squeezing fingers as he came, his hips snapping upwards so hard he felt sure they would be bruised in the morning, the two of them the only people in the universe at that moment-  
  
No. As he began to flirt with the edge of passing out, he was suddenly aware of something else, something in the darkness, a presence, just the faintest awareness, like seeing something out of the corner of your eye or that feeling just before you look up and catch someone watching you. It was dark, so dark, too dark and he was falling into it and began to panic, fighting against the sensation, writhing on the bed-  
  
Cool air flooded into his lungs as Johnson let go, leaning over his body to wrap herself around him and keep him from throwing her off, her legs gripping onto his thighs as her hands slid under his shoulders, at once terrifying and soothing him as he coughed. Reflexively he wrapped his arms around her, revelling in the sensation, the touch of her skin somehow chasing away the lingering traces of fear, the presence fading like a popped bubble on a sunny day, vanishing so quickly it was as if it had never existed.  
  
She was so warm, hot and sticky against his skin, and he could feel her shivering slightly too, although whether from cold or exhaustion or because she had felt it too, he would never know. Instead, he just held her close, staying inside her as their breathing calmed again, a small cough of her own against his ear making him jump then grin.  
  
“Guess we shouldn't really be doing that so soon after the Hub, hey?”  
  
A nod against his bad shoulder turned into a bite, hard and sharp against his still sore muscles and he cried out, the pain most definitely not the good kind, and he grabbed her hard, flipping them both on the bed so he was on top again. He could feel himself slide free of her body, vaguely aware he should take care of his condom, but not really wanting to bother.   
  
The 21st century was so primitive sometimes, with barriers everywhere. Barriers of their religions telling him who he should and should not fuck, barriers of language even between members of the same species, barriers around their hearts and bodies of morality and pain that made having a good time a seriously difficult prospect sometimes. It somehow made sense they would turn that into a physical barrier too, using it to protect themselves enough to be able to let go.  
  
The 21st Century. What the Hell was he still doing here?  
  
Grabbing Johnson's wrists, he held her down against the bed and leaned over her, his shoulder screaming at him but the pain fading to a more bearable ache as he hovered over her lips. “That. Hurt.”  
  
“Good,” she snarled back, her lips bumping into his hard enough to hit his teeth and a small tang of blood appeared in his mouth as he kissed her back, realising he really did have to do something about that condom before he began getting hard again. Which at the rate he was going wouldn't be long.  
  
That was the other thing about the blackout nights; in spite of the darkness and early night, he somehow never managed to get any sleep.  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Jack couldn't sleep. Not in the usual, irritable, insomniac sense of the phrase, but in the quite literal sense; his body refused, his mind rebelled and nothing short of a state of deep meditation, Psychic intervention (that usually required a particularly ancient blue box), or the right bedfellow, could persuade him to part company with consciousness.   
  
As the blue box was no doubt getting herself and her occupants into several worlds worth of trouble, and the right bedfellow was tucked up in a completely different bed a good half an hours walk away, that didn't seem like changing any time soon.  
  
He had at least shed his outer layers, the simple t shirt and tracksuit bottoms he had found in the basic, but surprisingly thoroughly stocked, wardrobe comfortable enough to relax in. He was not too cold, in spite of the chilly night. The lack of heat being thrown out not only by central heating but all the other everyday electric gadgets was noticeable but not bothering him. He wasn't hungry or tired, he was clean and warm and perfectly comfortable. He just couldn't sleep and had nothing to distract him from that fact.  
  
The lack of electricity was really starting to get to him. It wasn't the darkness as such that bothered him right now, although if he sat still in it for too long he could almost hear the sound of soil being thrown on top of him, but that was one of many old fears that he had learned to live with. His time on the Valiant had taught him long ago that the some of the worst monsters of all rather enjoyed working in the light. Spotlights in fact. With extra wide beams to make sure nothing was obscured-  
  
No, it wasn't the dark that was irritating, especially with the small stash of candles lit and placed safely around the room to stave it off. It was the boredom.   
  
Jack had never really realised just how much he had come to rely on the more modern forms of entertainment. When he had first bounced back to Earth in the 1800's, it had been a hell of a shock to adjust to not having any of the comforts of even the 21st century, let alone the 51st. But he had coped, he had found new ways to pass the time, new pleasures and challenges to fill his days with. As the century slowly turned and turned again, he had grown into each new appliance and convenience with both the joy of greeting an old friend and the excitement of a new toy. He had taken nothing for granted.  
  
Yet now, he had been back on the planet just a couple of days, and he was bored. Mind-numbingly bored. The sort of bored that made his brain wonder if taking the candles that surrounded him in the small room and trying to light both ends of them would be fun or just messy. The sort of bored that made him consider killing himself, just to have maybe thirty minutes of oblivion to make to time go faster.  
  
The sort of bored that made him want to get very, very drunk and go looking for a fight – or a fuck.  
  
Pushing it aside, Jack blew out all but one of the candles and threw himself down onto the narrow bed. A  _single_  bed. At first he had thought Ianto had chosen this place to send a signal to him that Ianto wouldn't be coming back here, that there was no chance of any invitations, no your place or mine conversation. A single bed in a positively ascetic flat, it wasn't exactly inviting him to stay for long.  
  
But now he couldn't help but wonder if maybe a little spark of jealousy had been involved, if Ianto had chosen this flat so that Jack couldn't bring anyone else back. Maybe Ianto had been consumed with jealousy at the thought of Jack with anyone else and-  
  
Shifting on the bed, Jack blew out the last candle on the bedside table and closed his eyes. It wasn't that. Besides, Jack had already proved all too well who the jealous one of the two of them was.  
  
But maybe, just maybe, this flat was uninviting on purpose. Maybe it was Ianto's way of saying it wouldn't be for long, that he shouldn't have to wait too long. That soon this phase would pass and they would be together again, maybe not the same way they were before, that had been another life for both of them, but maybe soon...  
  
In the meantime, he should at least try to sleep. It couldn't hurt. Concentrating on his breathing, Jack relaxed into the covers, his chest rising and falling in a slower and steadier rhythm as he fought his mind. Switching off and falling asleep was not a matter of just closing his eyes; Jack only truly 'fell' asleep through extreme exhaustion or when he was thoroughly and completely relaxed. As both of those states tended to involve a rather thorough physical workout, usually with a warm and willing 'sparring partner', he had to go for the longer, manual process.  
  
He had once described it to Ianto as being like powering down a complicated machine or computer; he had to go through his mind step by step, shutting down each section and thought manually. It was a long process and an odd one and he had always wondered what other people's minds felt like to them, if they ever had to do this. He had once touched the Doctor's mind and found it full of doors, each one a memory or piece of him, whereas Ianto had described his own memory as being more like filing cabinets full of folders, each one neatly stacked away.  
  
To Jack, it was a starmap, like the array in his first spaceship. Each of his memories was a star or planet and he could fly to any of them, could navigate a course that went from one to the other in a smooth sequence or engage the overrides and jump from one to the next. There were bright white stars and red ones and deep, dark blue ones like eyes looking at him. Some courses were filled with hazards, and the gaping Black hole of his missing two years still mocked him from the centre of his starscape, an ugly wound that he could never quite get past.   
  
The year on the Valiant was tucked into a dark, empty corner, away from all the other stars where it could never touch them, never affect them or tarnish their light.  
  
To Jack, sleep was like bringing his ship in to land and shutting it down. He had to guide it past all the stars to the darkest part of the map, to the place where all the light died away and only the darkness of sleep was waiting for him. Every time a memory or thought distracted him, he veered off course until he pushed it away, steering past it. It was a long process and some nights he never reached the home port at all, instead flitting between the stars and planets in his mind, lingering over some memories and veering quickly away from others.  
  
Tonight, the blue marbled world that was Ianto kept flicking into view and every time he tried to get past it another memory would slip through its cloud cover to break his concentration. The feel of Ianto's hand in his, their fingers intertwined as they faced each other, their bare skin slick with sweat even in the chill of the hub as they moved together... The feel of Ianto's arms wrapping around him and a chin resting against his back, hot breath tickling his skin until soft snores gave him an excuse to turn over and move their positions so he could just watch Ianto sleep, waiting to see if his dreams were good, or involved a certain immortal at all... The sight of Ianto for the first time since the explosion, that stupid outfit and hat and the red and bloody cut still all too visible on his skin-  
  
The sight of Ianto by the bay, the cut now just a scar and stubble dusting his jaw, his eyes cold and distant-  
  
The thought of Ianto and John together, the things John had said about them, his words echoing through Jack's ears, each word low and cold and so full of truth and whispering right in his ear, he could feel John's cool breath tickling his skin-  
  
No, not  _John's_  breath, he wasn't there.   
  
But there  _was_  breathing.  
  
Jack didn't move, didn't shift on the bed, but instantly his mind was alert and listening to every clue and sound in the room. He could hear it, quieter than anything he had ever heard and far too drawn out and slow to be human. It was a breath that was more like a mournful sigh on the wind, a remnant of a time long since gone, than a living sound, as though a ghost or phantom had crept into his room. He couldn't tell where it was, there was no sense of physicality behind it, no heat or actual bodily presence in the room that he could tell, but he could  _feel_  it. A presence, a soul or force that had no place being there.  
  
And he was sure it wasn't human.  
  
“I know you're here.” He couldn't hear anything in response, there was no change in the air, but he could almost feel a shift in the fabric of space in the room, like knowing when the TARDIS was still in space rather than on a planet. It was a different kind of eddy, a subtle feeling of drifting, as though everything was just a fraction less solid than usual. If he hadn't been so deep into his own form of meditation he would never even have noticed it, but it was there. It was listening.  
  
“Whatever it is you need, I can help you. But you need to show yourself, I need to know how.” Opening his eyes, Jack stared into the pitch black room but there was nothing, no trace of anything at all. “I can help you, I-”  
  
Jack could feel his breath catch in his throat as images filled his head, memories, his own memories, every fear and trauma, every grief and parting, every one of the memories he locked so tightly away assaulting him in one go, leaving him shaking, unable to move or breathe and he could almost  _see_  it, a vague edge of deeper black floating over him, a shape that he couldn't quite make out as it seemed to lean over him, almost as though it was drinking in his fear and feeding on it, growing stronger with every second-  
  
Jack sat up with a gasp as the headlights from a car swept through his bedroom window, the light flashing across his ceiling and breaking the spell, the alien, the monster, the whatever it was, vanishing like magic-  
  
Or the last dregs of a nightmare. Using his wrist strap to light the room as best he could whilst he hastily lit the candles again, Jack could feel the familiar pounding in his chest and sense of unreality that he had come to associate with nightmares. He felt as though he had only lain down on the bed maybe an hour ago but his clock clearly showed that three hours had passed and the first traces of dawn were starting to creep around the edges of the night like shy children peering out from behind their parents' legs. It had just been a bad dream.  
  
It had felt so real though.  
  
Shivering, Jack collapsed back down onto the bed then rolled over, wrestling the cover out from underneath him and pulling it over his body and welcoming the warmth of it, letting it soothe him. It had just been a dream. There wasn't really anything lurking in the dark.  
  
All the same, as he closed his eyes this time, Jack kept the candle lit.  
  
**************************************** ***********************  
  
Big Ears sighed as he sat against the wall, only half watching the room now and choosing to ignore the way his brother was dancing with the strange guy from earlier. On the one hand, it was great that openly gay behaviour was so acceptable now. On the other hand, he really didn't need to see some guy feeling up his baby brother. Oddly enough, he felt the same whether it was a guy or a girl doing the feeling up, so he at least consoled himself it wasn't latent homophobia rearing its ugly head, just the normal proof-of-any-family-member-doing-it freak out.  
  
The party was winding down, the loud rooms getting louder but emptier and the quiet rooms becoming slowly shifting piles of bodies and quiet murmurs. The candles that were everywhere were starting to die, each one vanishing unremarked with a small puff and the light slowly getting dimmer and dimmer. It was peaceful, so quiet...  
  
He needed to move or he would fall asleep. Shuffling up to his feet, he saw Noddy glance over and quickly grinned back, a 'nothing to worry about' look being instantly accepted by his brother and concern melting into flirtation again without a second thought. Oh to be young and horny again.  
  
Not that he was exactly old himself.  
  
Grinning to himself, Big Ears shifted the bags back onto his shoulder and carefully made his way through the dark house, the few cheap glow sticks and tea lights lining the staircase casting ghostly shadows on the walls as he passed, a couple guttering from the gentle shift in the air. The house seemed quieter somehow, not in volume but in atmosphere, as thought the sleepiness was catching or a spell had been cast over them.   
  
Fighting back a yawn, he headed quietly to the front room. The séance was well and truly over, the board abandoned and quiet murmurs of sleeping bodies stirring the air instead of ghostly wails or rattling chains, just a single candle still fighting the dark. As he watched, it finally died, the last millimetres of wick succumbing at last to drowning in its own wax.  
  
A quiet whimper drew his attention and he stood very still, listening hard to the now pitch black room. It was coming from somewhere to his right, the sound not panicked or urgent but a lower sound, more of a steady torment than a fright.   
  
“Hello?”  
  
There was no reply, but he could hear a shifting, as though someone was turning over, and the sound carried on, soft and upset. He thought it was a woman, the sound missing something masculine to it that would mark it as male. To some, the thought that there was a difference would seem sexist, but he had fought and slept alongside men for long enough to know the difference; people may be sexist but nightmares aren't, and he knew full well even the toughest man could whimper like a child when in their grip.  
  
He was about to shuffle towards the sound when a second cry started, over to his right. It was more of a moan, long and mournful, the sound of a creature not in pain but in distress, a soul in torment and he froze, all the old horror movies he and Noddy had watched as kids running over and over in front of his blinded eyes.   
  
There was something in there with him, in the dark, he could  _feel_  it, it was happening all over again, it was taking the kids and now it was coming for him-  
  
A third cry, words this time, a steady murmur of 'no, please, don't, stop it...' and he snapped out of it, pulling the torch from his bag and flicking it on decisively. Instantly the darkness was gone, long shadows and cobwebs filling his eyes and a few bodies began to shift in the darkness, waking up.  
  
“What the hell, man...”  
  
The whimpering was still going on and he ignored the coherent ones, heading straight for the sound of distress. A young woman, her dyed black hair splayed over the ancient carpet, was clutching her own body tight, her arms wrapped around herself as she muttered, her eyes screwed shut.  
  
“Please stop, please, I don't want-”  
  
The drunken kids watched stupidly as he dropped to his knees in front of her, his torch rolling on the carpet and focusing on her face. He grabbed her shoulders, gently shaking her and trying to wake her up. Even as he touched her, he could feel something was wrong, her skin far too hot under his grip and her face flushed.   
  
“Shit.” Shaking her more vigorously, he looked around at the nearest people. “What's her name? Is anyone here with her, come on, what's her name?”  
  
“Dawn,” one of the young men blurted out at last, rubbing his hand across his face as he scrambled closer, her terrified mumblings making the group on edge. “What's going on?”  
  
“Dawn? Come on, wake up Dawn, can you hear-” Big Ears stopped as she suddenly stopped talking and began to shake, her body convulsing. “Oh hell.” One of the other girls screamed at the sight, the music downstairs suddenly lowering as though they had heard. Grabbing at the nearest piece of loose clothing he could find, he quickly placed it under Dawn's head, trying to stop her banging her skull against the floor. “Somebody call an ambulance, right fucking now, and anyone who knows what she's taken, you tell me right now, you hear me?”  
  
He barely looked round as he heard the sound of at least three phones clicking into life and someone began to speak, terrified but alert enough to get the address half right. As a few people offered half hearted suggestions of what drugs they had been offered that night he knew they genuinely weren't sure and shook his head. Kids, he thought to himself, if you're going to do something stupid at least make sure you've got a mate watching your back.  
  
Speaking of which...  
  
Noddy skidded to his knees beside him, digging into the rucksacks for more torches and lighting them quickly. “Anyone who has a light, light it now,” Noddy ordered, the head banging youth he had been downstairs instantly gone and the army soldier taking his place. As the light levels rose, Big Ears could see it was starting to pass, her convulsions easing as more people shone their lights on her body. As soon as it stopped, he checked her airway and rolled her into the recovery position and wished he had taken more medical training. As it was, all he could remember were snatches of a first aid course; Airway, Breathing, Circulation.   
  
She was breathing, her breath heavy but there. Grabbing her wrist, he was surprised by how quickly he found her pulse, the speed of it frightening. Noddy was still barking orders, sending a group of youngsters with torches out to the road to guide the ambulance in and sending useless onlookers scattering back down the stairs, the buzz of sudden gossip and panic filling the air. Big Ears was sure that by the time the ambulance got here the drive would be at least half empty, the scratch of shoes on gravel and the thud of car doors already filling the air.  
  
Taking the girl's hand in his, Big Ears, stroked her too dark hair back from her face and began to talk to her softly, his voice low but steady. There wasn't much more he could do until the ambulance arrived, Noddy already having matters well in hand. They had always joked than he was the brains to Big Ears' brawn, but the fact was they just worked well together. They fit, always had.  
  
Talking to the girl about everything and nothing, he listened hard, waiting for the sound of the ambulance siren – or for her to answer back.  
  
**************************************** ************  
  
Ianto stifled a yawn as he made his way into the office, but not fast enough to avoid triggering a wave of sympathy yawns from the few technicians who were already in. None of them looked particularly well rested, but he was used to that. Nobody seemed to sleep well during a blackout, the change in routine hard to take maybe; or perhaps a more simple answer was that the technicians had been enjoying the alternative entertainments the city had to offer on those nights a little too much.  
  
Coffee. He needed coffee. Actually, it looked as though everyone could do with some. A proper brew up then. Nodding to himself, Ianto ducked into his office long enough to lose his jacket and check everything had come back up properly from the powerdown, then headed straight for the small kitchenette by his office. It was only a small space, just a few cupboards, a fridge and a sink, but big enough for the coffee machine. This was his kitchen, the one perk he had insisted on. Nobody else could use this machine, and the one time someone had tried the others had figured out very quickly it had been a Bad Idea when they had been cut off for a week.  
  
Ianto would never tell anyone his secrets, never admit to what it was that made his coffee special, the mystique simply another bonus to being the boss. He had heard some of the theories though; alien coffee beans, added syrup, a special kind of sweetener, and even a suggestion of narcotics in the mix (that, he suspected, had been triggered by someone catching a Foo Fighters video on the TV). All those theories had been bounded around but he would never confirm, just simply smile and walked away.  
  
They would all be so disappointed if they ever worked out the truth. Some things in life were best left a mystery.  
  
He could feel eyes peeking at him through the doorway as he worked, even though all they could possibly see was the edge of his back as he moved just out of sight in the corner. Curiosity was a strong instinct in his team, it was essential to the job really, but sometimes it could work against him. Still, he could hear the office getting busier as he carried on working, the coffee brewing through and slowly developing, growing under his care like a prize orchid under a gardener's tender ministrations. Finally it crept into bloom, the scent of it filling his mind as he moved with easy familiarity to pour that first cup.  
  
Turning to lean against the counter, Ianto closed his eyes as he brought it up to his mouth slowly, inhaling the steam off it and savouring the sensation as the warm rim touched his lips before the first drop was sucked carefully between them, just the slightest splash, just enough to get the taste. Letting a lazy smile break out over his face, he let the cup drift down a little, waiting for the last thrill of it to fade away. Finally opening his eyes he spotted a figure lurking in the doorway and jumped, trying not to spill his coffee in his surprise.  
  
“I'd forgotten how obscene you can get around a coffee machine.” Captain Jack Harkness leaned against the doorway, a look of longing and melancholy on his face that Ianto was coming to get far too used to – and was starting to hate. Putting the cup down, he turned back to the machine, busying himself with pouring another, even as he was all too aware of Jack coming closer, his presence somehow magnified by the small space. It was just the pheromones, Ianto told himself, confined spaces trapped the effect, that was all.  
  
Except he knew all too well it wasn't.  
  
Hastily turning around and bringing the fresh cup between them, Ianto used it almost like a shield, his arm blocking any moves Jack may have been considering and forcing him to accept the coffee with a small smile.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Y-You're welcome,” Ianto managed to get out as Jack took the cup from him, their fingers touching and dammit, he felt his stomach actually  _flip_  at the sensation. He felt like an idiot. He was a stupid teenager with a crush again, he was-  
  
He was so screwed.  
  
Forcing air into his lungs, he nodded to Jack and then glanced over his shoulder to where Lois was lurking in the doorway, quickly averting her gaze as soon as she was caught looking. He was really going to have to try to get used to this. He had spent so long getting used to be in charge, to being a little distant and the boss, he had forgotten how distracting it was to have someone nearby who he just wanted to be with so much but couldn't. He'd forgotten the frustration of it, of each small touch being so much more than it really was. It wasn't the touch of skin against his that made his heart ache, it was the knowledge of how much more he could have if he just gave in-  
  
“Lois, would you like a cup?” Ianto finally forced out, his words making Jack turn and realise they were being watched. To her credit, Lois didn't let on that she had seen anything happen – not that anything  _had_  happened. Jack was just standing in the kitchenette with him. So he was standing just a little too close, leaning in just a little too much, his eyes just a little too filled with the reflection of Ianto to be casual. But still, nothing had happened.  
  
If he kept telling himself that, Ianto decided, maybe his body would finally calm down enough to believe it.  
  
Jack withdrew from the small room and it suddenly felt ten times bigger, as though Ianto could breathe again. Forcing himself to stay sane, he turned back to the coffee machine and busied himself as the orders started to come in, word spreading fast that the boss was making  _his_  coffee. By the time the whole team was caffeinated, with a couple of addicts sneaking in for a second cup whilst he was distracted, the feeling had passed and he was in control again. He was going to be just fine.  
  
If he could just stay clear of Jack...  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
Cassie frowned as she cued up the video one more time, the images on the screen flickering and jolting as they rewound to the correct position. The audio was missing, the images being shared between her and her office in the states but not the sound. However, she had already seen this file so many times she didn't need sound any more, she could practically lip read and hear the missing pieces of the conversation in her head, like an old movie she had seen far too many times. Her colleagues in the States had been analysing the tapes whilst she slept, working late to help her, and confirming her initial assessments.  
  
Freezing the video on an image of one of the technicians, she stopped as the software kicked in, analysing the image and trying to match the emotion but a human response from her boss got there first. His gruff London accent sounded fed up, annoyed at the interruption, but she knew that was just his default expression.   
  
 _“Boredom. He's just not interested in anything being said at all. Unlikely for a spy.”_  
  
Nodding, Cassie found his name on the list and crossed his off. “Agreed. He also didn't show anything suspicious in the face to face chats so that's another one down.” Flicking her gaze down the list, she sighed. “And just another dozen low level staff to go. That's ignoring the security and management team.”  
  
 _“You ruling them out?”_  Her boss asked, his voice surprised in her ear.  
  
“Hell no,” she muttered, scribbling a few more notes on the page and triggering the printer to capture the frozen screenshot on paper for her file. “I don't trust any of them.”  
  
 _“Not even your friend?”_  
  
Cassie hesitated, her gaze flicking up the list to where Ianto's name lay, right at the top. “For the purposes of this particular investigation? Okay, so he wouldn't sell out his own team, he's sacrificed too much to put it together in the first place.”  
  
 _“And in general?”_  
  
“I don't know,” she admitted, looking up at the door as though her eyes could reinforce the lock. “He's not the same person I knew.”  
  
 _“Cassie, sweetheart, you're not the same kid who joined my team four years ago either. People change.”_  
  
“Yes, but how much?” Shaking her head even though he couldn't see it, she sighed. “I'm just being daft. Ignore me.”  
  
 _“You've got good instincts Cassie, don' let anyone tell you otherwise. If you think something's wrong, keep an eye on it. If you're wrong, you're wrong, but you start ignoring your instincts and you'll never get anywhere.”_  
  
Chuckling quietly at the far too familiar speech, Cassie smiled. “Yes boss.”  
  
 _“Good. Right, I don't think we've got anything else for you other than those few yet, I'm off to bed, but I'll call you back in the morning, okay?”_  
  
“Thanks for this. I'm lucky you're such a complete insomniac.”  
  
 _“You're lucky I'm in LA for this conference or I'd've been asleep hours ago. Look kid, we're being paid, remember, we're not doing you or your friend a favour so forget about it. You just get this job done and get your arse back here before I give your desk to someone else.”_  
  
“I'll be home as soon as I can be, believe me,” she murmured, switching off the video and stretching up towards the ceiling. “Thanks anyway though.”  
  
 _“No problem. Night Cassie.”_  
  
“Night.” Clicking off the call, Cassie looked out of the office window at the steadily brightening day and sighed. She felt like she could do with another few hours in bed but instead the day was only just beginning and had the potential to be a long one.  
  
It wasn't until much later that she realised just how right she had been.  
  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Ianto stifled another yawn as he listened to the night's updates coming in at the briefing, Jack decidedly fidgety by his right. He could tell Jack was bored; meetings had never exactly been his idea of fun, and if it wasn't for breakfast being provided he knew most of the team would have opted to stay in bed. Okay, so it wasn't always fun, but sometimes making sure everyone was on the right page was important.  
  
And when nobody knew what the right page was, it was even more important to know that everyone was working together.  
  
As an update on the general state of the city concluded, Ianto nodded to Johnson to go next.  
  
“Generally we had a quiet night,” Johnson reported to the meeting, the slightly tired gazes of the others making her keep it short, “two weevils bagged, no casualties, a couple of drunk girls down by the bay made a play for Bill and Ben and nearly messed up the capture, but they managed to put them off in time. Mostly quiet in Cardiff, no major incidents, and Noddy and Big Ears had nothing relevant to report back from the 'Haunted House' party.”  
  
Ianto looked up, catching something in her voice. “There was nothing suspicious,” she clarified, but her tone still suggested otherwise, “just a normal party, but the boys had to help deal with a suspected overdose. They went to the hospital with the casualty and are heading straight home for some sleep as soon as her parents get there.” She looked up from her notes and shook her head slightly. “Nothing for Torchwood, just a normal night out. I'm taking them both off duty today, barring an emergency.”  
  
“Fine,” Ianto nodded, agreeing with her entirely. As Johnson put her notes away, he turned to Lois again and she looked up, her own minute taking stopping as it reached her turn again. “Speaking of hospitals, anything exciting?”  
  
“Actually, there was something a little unusual on the hospital admissions. There was the usual increase in physical injuries of course, broken legs, burns from candles, that sort of thing. But it seems we've had a couple of mystery coma patients admitted to hospital, both found collapsed at home this morning and there doesn't seem to be a physical cause yet. We've also had a case referred to us by Andy...”   
  
Lois frowned and put her notes down, looking uncomfortable. “I guess the best way to describe it is some sort of breakdown. Young man, Michael Taylor, early 20's, was admitted to A and E after he was found in the street screaming that 'the darkness was trying to suck his brains out'.”  
  
“With their music, it sounds about right, although I assume we're talking the more traditional fear of the dark here?” Ianto raised an eyebrow sceptically and took the file from her, looking through it. “That is a little odd, even for Cardiff, but probably just some student on a bad trip. Did Andy say anything else?”  
  
Lois shook her head with a mischievous grin. “Just to tell you that he has a bad feeling about this one.”  
  
Half the group of technicians groaned as Ianto tossed a matching grin at Cassie, explaining. “Andy's just doomed us all. Right, well, far be it from me to dispute Andy's hunches, he is annoyingly accurate with them sometimes. Lois, can you and Tim head over there in a bit, check this Mr Taylor out and video the interview? If he is at the hospital still, you can get the details on the coma patients whilst you're at it.”  
  
“Why worry about comas?” Cassie asked, leaning forwards. “They can't be that uncommon in a city this size, can they?”  
  
Ianto shrugged and flicked through the medical reports. “When there's a direct medical cause, an accident or injury, that's one thing. However, Cardiff is becoming 'statistically significant' as a place that is high risk for comas. Admittedly, we've played a part in that figure as we've had a couple of nasty cases involving alien or...”   
  
Ianto paused, trying to work out how to classify some of the things he had seen; the sight of a solid man emerging from a projected image on a screen, the sound of a last breath trapped in a bottle instead of a body, a lost soul returning to the little boy where it belonged...   
  
“I guess 'supernatural' forces will do, for lack of a better term, but we've really helped skew the graph on that front. So, we now keep an eye on any unusual injuries,; maulings, strange toxins, and of course comas without any physical trauma or infection are top of the list.”  
  
“Plus,” he added with a small frown. “With an invincible vampire unaccounted for, I'd rather be safe than sorry. We didn't manage to analyse the effect he had on his victims properly as the only person he attacked last time was already-” Ianto stopped, a quick glance at Jack betraying where his thoughts lay. “Anyway, so, that's a couple of possible leads. Worth checking out.” Fighting back another yawn, Ianto glanced around the table once more. “Anything else to report?” At the shaking heads, he nodded and began gathering up his own notes. “Okay, dismissed.”  
  
As the team noisily burst back into life, chatting and laughing as they headed to their work, Jack leaned over. “Dismissed?”  
  
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Ianto nodded. “What would you prefer, 'that's all folks?' Or maybe 'last one in the pool is a rotten egg'?”  
  
“You have a pool?”  
  
Ianto closed his eyes, Jack's mischievous mood exactly what he didn't need today. This was going to be a very long day...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns may go unrescued for a long time, but not forever; a happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.”  
> Peter S Beagle

Jack could feel the muscles in his arms starting to cramp and shook them out, rolling his head from side to side as he regarded the targets ahead of him. The firing range was pretty basic, but it worked and that was all that mattered. With some of the team sleeping off a long night shift, the range was quieter than it had been yesterday, but he could hear the shots around him even through his ear protectors.   
  
He didn't hear the figure approaching behind him though, intent on the target as he raised the next weapon, familiarising himself with the grip and weight of the thing. It was solid, heavy and reassuring in his hand, and there was something about it that just screamed serious business. There was no doubting that if this was aimed at you, you would know you were in trouble.  
  
He still missed his Webley though.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Jack aimed, and blew it out slowly. Focusing on the target and relaxing into the shot, he pulled back slowly, feeling the strength of the trigger, judging the feel of it, waiting for the moment when it passed the point of no return and would spring to life, the kick of it against his hand-  
  
The unexpected pressure against the back of his knee made it bend reflexively, his aim rising just as the bullet flew out of the gun, impacting on the ceiling of the range. Jack hastily lowered the gun, sliding his finger free of the trigger, and making it safe before turning. His instincts were screaming at him to shoot his attacker but he pushed them down, knowing that if it was a real threat he would already be dead, therefore it had to be innocent. Or maybe just misguided.  
  
As he turned to face the figure and pulled his ear defenders off he glared angrily. Or maybe just incredibly annoying.  
  
“Nice shooting,” John said, his own ear defenders around his neck and that grin on his face that made Jack want to just throttle him. Just reach out, grab his neck, and keep squeezing-  
  
The biggest thing stopping him from doing so wasn't worrying about hurting John, but more the distant memory that it was far more likely to turn him on than anything else. “What the hell do you want John?”  
  
Shrugging, the thief glanced past Jack at the intact target mocking him from the range and pulled his own weapons from his thigh holsters, the leather back in place in the range, the only place he wore them outside of missions now. Handing one to Jack, he took the other gun back off him and held it up, shaking his head. “Don't use this one, it's such a pathetic little thing. Hardly any kick to it. Still, suppose you've forgotten what a real weapon even feels like-”  
  
Jack wrapped his hand around John's blaster and had to admit, it just felt... good. It had been so long since he had held anything genuinely futuristic, not just alien tech, but genuine, designed by and for humans, future technology. It felt right, the perfect balance and weight, the warmth of it welcoming him like an old friend. He didn't even have to think as he fingered the power settings, sliding it right back to the lowest level. By 21st century standards, that was still enough to cause some serious damage to the targets on the range. By 51st century standards, it was what you used to train your kids to shoot at Sunday school.  
  
Some things about that century were best left there.  
  
John smirked as Jack turned around to face the target again, his ear defenders forgotten and unwanted with this gun. He had used this weapon before; he and John had been forced to swap weapons more than a few times when they were partners, and they considered it bad form to hog the hardware. They had shared everything in those days, including lovers.  
  
Seemed like they were returning to those rules again.  
  
Pulling back on the trigger, Jack fired, watching the target jump and quiver under the blast before a small flame began to lick along the blossoming hole in the figure's chest, threatening to engulf the whole thing. There was no recoil, no kick back against his fingers, just a smooth and steady shot and an effortless kill. It was the perfect weapon that would make him the perfect killer again.  
  
“Feels good, doesn't it?” John whispered over his shoulder, the press of his chin against Jack's neck making him want to squirm away. “That power, so efficient, so smooth, there's something to be said for having a little piece of home with you.”  
  
Jack could feel how easy it would be to have this gun, to be able to defend everyone he loved with such ease, every shot as lethal or forgiving as he chose. Maybe if he had had a weapon like this he would have been able to pierce the glass surrounding the 456 and make the bastards choke to death too, maybe they would have run away and-  
  
Lowering his arm, Jack looked at the blaster in it and made it safe, powering down the chamber before holding it up beside his head, grip towards John. “Your home, not mine, John. This is my home now and I'll find a new weapon to match it. This is yours.”  
  
He could hear a faint huff of surprise, then felt John press up against his back, closer than needed and far closer than was appropriate, and Jack had to resist the urge to toss him over his shoulder head first into the range. Instead, he held still as John's fingers wrapped over his and gently slid the gun from Jack's grip.  
  
“Your loss mate,” John whispered quietly. “If you ever change your mind and fancy a little reminder of where you come from and who you really are, you know where to come to.”  
  
“I've spent a hundred years trying to forget that life, why the hell would I want it – or you – back?” Jack snarled, elbowing John back off him as soon as he could hear the gun slide back into John's holster.   
  
“Your choice,” John sighed, shifting out the way as Jack pushed past. “Look, offer's there if you ever change your mind. Same as it is for Ianto.”  
  
Jack could feel his fists clenching tight as he headed to the weapons racks again, forcing his breath out through gritted teeth. No, he would not get drawn into another fight with John, not here, not now. He had to prove that he could handle this, that they could work together. He had to try.  
  
Or at least wait until there were fewer witnesses around before killing him and dumping his body in the bay.  
  
Focusing on the guns, he waited until he heard the familiar swaggering stride move past and leave the range before blowing out a long breath. Running his gaze over the guns, some familiar and some new, he tried to pick one and didn't hear the almost silent footsteps coming to join him.  
  
“You okay?” Jack jumped a little before forcing a smile onto his face as he turned to face Johnson.   
  
“Yeah, fine, why wouldn't I be?”  
  
Johnson gave him a small look, as though asking if he really thought he was fooling anyone, before nodding. “Fine. Try the Lethbridge Three next, might be more your style.”  
  
She carried on past, leaving him in peace again, and Jack concentrated on the guns, picking out the one she had mentioned and looking up the correct ammo to go with it. As much as he didn't want John around right now, he didn't exactly trust himself alone with her either; it was hard to trust someone who had once cut him open in order to plant a bomb in his stomach, trying to kill him and all his friends, but he somehow trusted her more than the man who he had been far more intimate with a long time ago.   
  
Life was funny like that, when his former lover ranked lower down the list of reliable people than his former killer.  
  
  
**************************************** ***  
  
Lois adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she followed the doctor down the hospital corridor. The smell of disinfectant and milky tea was strong, the scent not overtly threatening but still enough to put her on edge, something deep in her core telling her this was not somewhere she wanted to be. She had no idea how the doctors and nurses could stand it; then again, in their job they probably smelt so much worse that it was almost pleasant by comparison.   
  
The doctor guiding them certainly didn't seem to care, his attention more focused on assessing them than his surroundings. His half polite, half sceptical, smile betrayed not only his mistrust of Torchwood (which, generally speaking, was a sensible reaction for the medical staff of this city) but also that look she knew all too well that meant she was being judged by her age and appearance.   
  
That judgement wasn't helped by Tim tagging along behind her, his body still possessing that slightly gangly feel of a boy who has grown too fast, even though he was probably as tall as he was ever going to be. His hands looked just a fraction too large for his body, long and slender fingers wrapped around the strap of the equipment bag. His feet didn't seem to be quite under his full control, although that could have been because of the undone laces on his trainers, or sneakers as he called them.   
  
He was dressed in almost a stereotypical youth fashion, his skinny jeans showing off every straight line and angle of him and skirting just low enough on his hips for the bones to jut through his striped t shirt when he stretched. If she had never met him before, she would have taken one look at his dyed black hair, floppy fringe, tattoos peeking out from his neckline, and the sliver of skin shining through above his trousers and dismissed him as just another emo kid.   
  
Then, as soon as he opened his mouth, she would have revised it to yank emo kid, his accent soft and not one she personally could place to any particular part of America, but somehow just different enough to be interesting, and not harsh enough to be grating. Still, he looked younger than his years, his slender frame and boyish face somehow not aged by the tattoos she knew covered much of his body. He did look like the last person Torchwood would ever hire; he was too conspicuous, too young and just too awkward to be the type.  
  
Which was, naturally, one of the reasons why Ianto had seen his photo in the list of foundation candidates and insisted on giving him a shot straight away.  
  
Of course, it also helped that he was technically brilliant, his knack with machinery, whether it was Earth tech or alien, something that had to be seen to be believed. Lois had once seen one of the others accidentally drop their phone into a beaker of liquid, the act one that was usually the kiss of death for a phone, and Tim had fished it out, taken it away and after a couple of hours had returned it almost completely fixed. Admittedly, it was now stuck with Katy Perry as the ringtone which drove everyone (especially Richard, whose phone it had been) completely mad but Tim had insisted that there was always a price to pay.  
  
She was not alone in suspecting he had fixed it that way on purpose though.  
  
Lois could almost feel him peering out from under his fringe, looking at everything they passed, his mind no doubt analysing and dissecting every machine and appliance on the way. He liked nothing more than to go through the box of pieces and remnants from the Hub and try to piece them back together, like the worlds weirdest jigsaw addict. As he slowed to check out some sort of cart of equipment that reminded her of something she'd seen on Casualty, she grabbed his arm and pulled him with her, preventing him from slowing up. He took it with good grace, used to having to be physically pulled back to the present when lost in a technical problem.  
  
At the same time though, in spite of his sometimes scary appearance, he just seemed to inspire trust in people and really connect with them. Some people anyway. His charms seemed somewhat lost on the doctor, who kept watching them as though expecting Tim to steal something.  
  
The doctor slowed and she quickly let go, letting Tim return his attention to the recording equipment slung over his shoulder and put his best 'trust me, I'm not a serial killer' smile on. It was a nice smile, but somehow always seemed to have the opposite effect to the one he intended. Sadly it also meant flicking his fringe back out of his eyes and revealing the traces of eyeliner that, from the frown on the doctor's face, had pushed him straight back into the emo Goth 'lock up the scalpels' category.   
  
Ignoring the doctor's obvious distaste, and knowing Tim had probably faced far worse, Lois focused on the door. Peering through the small window, Lois frowned at the glare of the bright lights on in the room despite the daylight streaming through the window.  
  
“Why are all the lights on?”  
  
The doctor looked careworn as he peered through at his patient, curled up on the bed with an IV in his arm and his back to the door. The bed had been dragged over to the windowsill so as much sunlight as possible fell on the patient's body, the thin sheet over him rising and falling fitfully with his breathing. “He's got Nyctophobia, fear of the dark. Acutely afraid, a full blown phobia that apparently came on suddenly last night. We have to keep the room fully lit or he just won't calm down, even though we've got him lightly sedated.”  
  
The doctor placed his hand on the door and looked at them oddly. “You know the saying, afraid of his own shadow?” Lois nodded and Tim half snorted his agreement beside her. “Well, this guy is afraid of every shadow.” As he pushed through the door, Lois was struck by the memory of her first encounter with the Wraitheen, the shadowy creatures that Captain Harkness had used to send messages to his friends still on Earth over the past few months.   
  
The way the Wraitheen had tracked the team, just a flicker of movement at the corner of your eye, and a sense of deeper shadow where there shouldn't be, the only clue to their presence. Then finally, just before they were real, the way they formed as though they dragged the very shadows towards them, clothing themselves in darkness, they were still the stuff of nightmares even though she knew what they really were.   
  
“Odd as it sounds, being afraid of your shadow's not always a bad idea,” she muttered to herself as the door opened under the doctor's touch and they followed him into the room.  
  
The man was curled up facing the window, as though the sunlight blasting through it was sustaining him, recharging him like a solar panel. Lois was reminded of her childhood cat, curled up in the light from the front window with a contented purr, but this man's body language was as far from that as possible. She could see him fidgeting and shifting on the bed, as though trying to stay in the light as much as possible.   
  
The lights in the room overlapped, obliterating any shadows that might be cast, and she felt uneasy as she stepped into the bright space. Even the reading light that usually hung above the bed, a long snake of metal and wires holding it to the wall, was down below the mattress instead, shining into the void underneath the bed. Looking down it seemed as though she was floating, her feet strangely adrift in the room as she moved closer.  
  
Behind her, Tim simply set to work unpacking his bag, the small tripod extending easily under his practised fingers. The traces of tattooed shapes peeked out from his sleeves, darting in and out as he moved. He was focused on his job, and nothing else, whilst the doctor checked on his patient, which just left her with nothing to do but wonder what the hell she was getting herself into.   
  
“Michael? Michael, I've got a young lady here who wants to talk to you. She wants to ask you about last night, can you talk to her for me?” The doctor's voice was soothing, calm, and warming like hot chocolate but it didn't seem to reach the young man on the bed. Instead, he shivered more violently and pulled the sheet tighter around himself, the thin cotton showing even the creases where the seams of his hospital gown lay against his skin. Finally he twisted, one eye darting to look at her over his shoulder, and she tried to smile convincingly, not letting on how much she could feel herself shaking.  
  
She shouldn't be here, she shouldn't be the one doing this. Ianto was better at these things, Cassie would be good, she seemed to always be talking to people, or Jack, he had seen more than most, people tended to trust him-  
  
“She can stay,” Michael whispered hoarsely, his eyes darting back to Tim as he straightened up from the tripod. She could see Michael's gaze flicker over Tim, taking in his form, and a small nod was barely visible through his shivers. “The guy too.”  
  
The doctor smiled encouragingly at Lois and checked Michaels IV once more before making a quick note on his chart. “He's pretty sedated which has taken the edge off. You should be able to talk to him for a while but I'll be right outside the door if you need me.”  
  
“Wait, you're not staying?” Lois blurted out, stepping towards the doctor with her hand outstretched as though wanting to physically keep him in the room with her.  
  
“He's not violent, you'll be fine. If you need anything, the buzzer's just there.”  
  
“He's right you know,” Michael said as the door closed. “I'm not dangerous, just going crazy.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” Lois said quickly. Tim gave her a quick thumbs up from the camera to say he was ready, before stepping to one side with the remote for the camera in his hands. “I didn't mean to imply-”  
  
“S'okay,” Michael mumbled, shifting on the bed to sit up, his hand still shaking as he adjusted his pillows, his short, dark hair ruffled from the pillows and a slight morning dusting of stubble over his face. “If I was you, I'd be scared too. This time yesterday I'd say anyone in this bed was a bloody nutter and stay well clear of them.” Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, Michael sighed deeply. “Don't suppose either of you has a cigarette?”  
  
Tim moved, as though to retrieve something from his pocket and Lois quickly shook her head. “I'm sorry, it's not allowed in here,” she said, shooting Tim a 'what the hell are you doing?' look.  
  
“I've got gum,” Tim offered, a curious smile on his face as his long fingers dipped into his jeans pocket. “It's that nicotine stuff. Nasty compared to the real thing, but takes the edge off.” His accent was subtle, not one that would really stand out normally, except here in Wales where American accents were a lot rarer, and it was enough to make Michael tilt his head just a little, as though trying to identify it.  
  
Michael smiled and lowered his hands from his eyes, a mixture of relief and exhaustion shining from them. “It's a start,” he murmured, eagerly taking the gum off Tim and stating to unwrap it, his eyes lingering on Tim's wrists. “Cool tattoos.”  
  
“Thanks man,” Tim said, smiling more genuinely this time. When he was trying to look normal, he failed miserably, somehow coming off a little like a mad stalker. But that smile, when it was real and it lit up his eyes, was infectious.  
  
“I've only got the one myself,” Michael added, pushing up the sleeve of his hospital gown to show a Chinese character on his upper arm. “Says 'strength'. At least, that's what the guy told me it says. No way in hell I'm going to China to check though.”  
  
Tim giggled, actually giggled, the sound disarming and almost childlike and in stark contrast to the severity of his appearance and the words coming from his mouth. “Fuck dude, you know that's so gonna say cock or some shit like that, don't you?”  
  
Michael laughed, looking away for a few seconds as he fiddled with the gum in his mouth. As he did so, Lois caught the faintest curl and stretch of Tim's fingers, pointing to himself and drawing her eye as he shot her a questioning look. Shrugging, she smiled tightly and took a seat on the chair, her notepad and pencil discreetly sliding onto her lap as Tim sat on the bed. She could see him using a touchpad on the remote to adjust the camera to focus on Michael, and past them both, then putting it safely to one side as Michael turned back.  
  
“Yeah, or just 'drunk sucker'. I was so out of it that night.”  
  
Tim winced and shook his head, pulling a biro from his pocket and rolling it between his fingers like a cigarette as he took a piece of gum for himself. “Oh man, ink in haste, repent forever my friend. Shit, if I had a nickel for every dumb thing I've done whilst wasted-”  
  
“I'd be a millionaire,” Michael admitted, casting his eyes down.  
  
“So, what were you on last night?” Tim asked casually, sucking on the end of the biro before blowing out a long breath, as though pretending it was a cigarette and they were just two guys in a bar. “Me, I was in that club with the silent rave, you know it? I was dancing to a  _totally_  different beat to everyone else. Blackouts are the best.”  
  
Michael nodded and looked up again before shrugging. “I was too knackered to go out, my housemate went clubbing but I stayed home, lit a candle and smoked a bit. It was just a little pot, nothing serious,” he added quickly as Lois made a couple of small notes on her pad. “I don't do it regularly, just when I've had a bad day. Plus, like you say, blackouts are awesome,” he added with a small smile. “There's this balcony door thing in our flat, in the lounge? Usually the streetlight makes it too bright to see anything through it but last night... I lay out on the floor and just stared up through the glass at the stars, the stars, they were singing, like something out of Close Encounters.”  
  
Grinning wickedly, Tim stuck the pen in the side of his mouth like a match or toothpick and held up his hand in an odd shape. “Buh, Buh, Buh, bu, buuuuuuuh,” he intoned solemnly, his hand flicking through five distinct shapes to follow the sounds even as Michael quickly mirrored him. “Classic movie,” Tim mumbled as he retrieved the pen from his mouth. “Yeah, I've had a few nights like that.”  
  
“It was incredible,” Michael sighed, then shivered again. “But then the candle went out. I didn't bother getting up 'cause I was peaceful, but then...” he shuddered again, wrapping his arms around his chest as though to keep warm. “Then the stars vanished.”  
  
Tim nodded, drawing back on the biro as though it was his last ever cigarette, lingering on the sensation and hollowing his cheeks as he did so. Pulling the pen free, he tapped it against his thigh and then reached out and placed his hand on Michael's lower leg. “All at once, or a few at a time?”  
  
Michael thought about it, then shook his head, looking down at Tim's hand on his leg, as though hypnotised by the skull and crossbones of ink on his wrist. “I- I'm not sure. I just remember thinking, where did the stars go, and there wasn't any cloud or anything but that- That's when I felt it.”  
  
“Felt what?” Lois asked quietly, unable to keep silent any longer, and almost winced when Michael jumped, as though suddenly remembering they weren't alone. His gaze flicked to the still running video camera and he shrugged quickly, a sudden jerk of his shoulders.  
  
“Don't laugh, but it was like... Like in the Harry Potter books.” Lois frowned but Tim just stroked his hand over Michael's shin in slow circles, soothing him like an animal.  
  
“Which bit?” he asked quietly, not laughing, just curious. “Like the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets?”  
  
Michael shook his head again and let out the word almost as a moan. “The Dementors.”  
  
Lois couldn't help the incredulous look she could feel on her face and quickly tried to hide it, but to his credit, Tim didn't even react. “That musta been rough, those guys scare the shit out of me.”  
  
Michael nodded and let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his hands up and down his arms even as his eyes never left Tim's hand. “Yeah, you have no idea. I don't mean like the movie version,” he quickly added, his gaze flicking up to meet Tim's, “not the stupid bin liner on a clothes line thing, I mean the book version, like I was a muggle and I couldn't see it at all, I could just feel it...”  
  
He broke off, pulling his hands up to his face again and pressing his palms against his eyes in a move which looked hard enough to hurt, or at least bring sparks into his vision. Lois wiggled her pen to get Tim's attention and then looked at Michael pointedly. Tim shook his head and mouthed back to her 'it's cool' before squeezing lightly on Michael's leg.  
  
“What did you feel? Was it like, the whole never be happy again bit?”  
  
Michael lowered his hands, his eyes red from the pressure as he shrugged. “Kind of. I just... I felt so afraid, like the most terrifying things that have ever happened to me were all flashing before my eyes, everything just as bad as it felt the first time, I couldn't breathe, and it hurt so much and I was so scared. It was like it... It was feeding on me, like it was in my mind, in my memories, using them...”   
  
Tim hesitated, staring at Michael oddly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Michael shook his head fiercely. “Okay man, sure. So what happened next?”  
  
Michael shook his head slowly, his arms lowering a little as though relaxing at last. “I just... I ran. I tripped over the table and went flying, I think I hit my head on the door a little,” he added, his right hand flicking through his hair as though to show off a lump, but all they could see was hair still. “I just... I ran, I didn't even have any shoes on, I just ran out into the street, I just had to get away from it, I think... I think I was screaming. I don't know. I think there was this cop and then...”   
  
He shrugged, looking up properly and glancing around the brightly lit room. “I don't really remember much until they brought me in here, I just remember the lights, like they, I don't know, like they woke me up. The lights help. And people, it's better when I'm not alone.”  
  
Shivering again, Michael let go of his arms and ran his fingers through his hair. “This is such a nightmare. I mean I'm a grown man, and all of a sudden I'm afraid of the dark.” Tim shifted closer on the bed, his hand still resting lightly on Michael's shin, warm through the thin sheet, and smiled again.  
  
“You had a bad experience, makes sense. Better than being afraid of something silly like spiders or slugs or-”  
  
“Needles,” Lois admitted quietly, her eyes locked on Michael's IV. The two men smiled at her and she smiled back a little awkwardly. “And sharks. I watched Jaws round a friend's house when I was just a kid. I still can't swim in the sea.”  
  
Michael laughed quietly and seemed to relax a little more. “I guess. Do you think it will fade?”  
  
Tim shrugged and glanced at Lois. “Don't see why not, the worst is over, you're safe here and the doctors will help you. You just had a bad experience-”  
  
“It wasn't a bad trip,” Michael broke in, his hand reaching out to grab Tim's tightly. “I swear, it was more than that, this was real, it... it happened.”  
  
“It's okay Michael,” Lois said quickly, rising at last to cross the last foot to the bed and stand alongside them. “We believe you. Something happened to you and we'll do what we can to help you, okay?”  
  
Tim nodded, jerking his free thumb towards her. “You can trust her, she knows her stuff, especially when it comes to freaky shit.”  
  
Laughing quietly, Michael nodded, his fingers flexing lightly over Tim's. “Freaky shit. You make it sound like you're with that Torchwood or something.” Lois could feel herself blushing as Tim just smiled. Michael laughed again before suddenly stopping. “Wait a minute, you serious? I thought you guys were just an urban legend.”  
  
“Some of us are,” Tim said oddly, then placed his hand over Michael's, completely sandwiching Michael's hand between both of his. “But some of us are just doing our job.”  
  
“But we're going to take care of this, okay?” Lois added. Tim squeezed his fingers once more, then broke off the grip, their hands sliding free at last. Michael nodded and fidgeted on the bed, his fingers twitching on the sheets.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Nodding, Lois stepped back and picked up her pad, going over the notes she'd made. “Right, is it okay if I ask you a few standard questions, background stuff, just to complete this?”  
  
“You got any more of that gum?” Michael asked in reply and Tim chuckled, pulling the packet from his pocket and tossing it onto Michael's lap. “Okay. Fire away.”  
  
**************************************** ****************  
  
Lois blew out a slow breath as the door to the room closed behind them, relieved to be out of there. She flicked through her notes to be sure they had everything whilst Tim shrugged the equipment bag back onto his shoulder.   
  
“What now, boss?” he asked with a smile, his eyes scanning the hallway again as though looking for the next challenge. Looking at her notes, content that between them and the video they were covered, Lois cast one more look through the glass at the huddled figure on the bed and sighed.  
  
“Right, well we've done all we can with him for now. I need to check out those coma patients on the other ward, why don't you go back to the car and get loaded up, I won't be too long.”  
  
“Want me to grab you a coffee or something from the café on the way?”  
  
“I'm fine, we'll be back at the office before you know it, I'll get something there. Go on, I'll catch you up.”  
  
Giving her that smile again, he strolled off, his head cocking from side to side like a curious dog as he ambled down the corridor, and she couldn't help shaking her head slightly in disbelief. He was at once a little terrifying and absolutely adorable, and she kept finding herself torn between wanting to back away from him and just smother him in a hug.  
  
At least he was young enough that hadn't made it into her fantasy bank. Yet.  
  
Shaking off the thought, she carried on through the hospital, trying to block out the smell of it. It was that sickly sweet smell once again, tinged with the occasional blast of chemicals that turned it into a weird mixture in her head, making her feel ill. It was purely psychological, but the sooner she could get out of here again the better.  
  
Hurrying along, she followed the signs to the ward, checking her pad as she went to get the names right and pulling out the right ID. They each had several personas they could use to get the information they needed, but the hospital staff reacted better to the real thing for some reason. Even if they hated Torchwood, and knew they were trouble, at the same time she seemed to get brownie points for honesty if nothing else. And, failing that, Martha's name usually got a bit more co-operation.  
  
She missed Martha if she was honest. Most of the team were either much younger or much older than Lois and, she had to admit, she missed having another woman around that she could talk to. The thought of sitting down with a cup of tea and sharing a copy of Cosmo with Johnson was just too weird to even picture. The technicians were nice enough but still quite young and obsessed with the boys in the team, or just too caught up in their own scientific speciality, to have a normal conversation with.  
  
Pushing through the door to the ward reception, Lois smiled broadly and tried not to gag at the ever present smell. It was mixed here with something darker, something wrong, nothing she could identify on a conscious level but the back of her brain still knew the truth; this was a place where people died.  
  
Not that the receptionist seemed to notice. Smiling kindly, she looked up as Lois came over and introduced herself, the nurse turning away to look up the patients for her. As Lois read idly through the poster about antibacterial hand gels, the nurse let out a quiet oh of surprise.  
  
“I'm sorry love, they were transferred just an hour or so ago.”  
  
“Transferred?” Lois asked quickly, leaning forward on the counter. “Where? Did they wake up or go to another ward?”  
  
“No, looks like they both had private medical cover so were transferred to a different hospital, that fancy new one up near Merthyr. I can give you the name of their doctor, if you like?”  
  
“Please,” Lois said quietly, what the boys would call her 'spidey sense' tingling. “Have they got a speciality in brain care then?”  
  
“Not that I know of,” the nurse admitted, writing a name down on a post it for Lois. “But they keep adding new services on as they open it up fully, so they may have just started. Here you go love.”  
  
“Thanks,” Lois said, taking the note and sticking it inside the cover of her notepad. “It was just a precaution anyway,” she added, “there wasn't anything that unusual about these two was there? Save me a trip up to Merthyr if we can put it down to a bump on the head or something.”  
  
“Oh, there was no physical injury with these two,” the nurse admitted, “not that I knew of anyway. They were just found alone in their beds this morning, one by her boyfriend picking her up for work and the other by the landlord. They just slipped away in their sleep.”   
  
The nurse hesitated a little, the look on her face not something Lois could identify but enough to peak her alert curiosity. For some reason, the image of Michael, laid out on the floor of his lounge and just watching the stars entered her head. “Sounds peaceful,” she said carefully, watching the nurse.  
  
“You'd think.” She hesitated again, looking around as though afraid to be overheard. “Look, I know it's probably nothing but you being, you know,” she waved her hand towards Lois' handbag where her ID was safely stashed away again. “It's just... The look on their faces. It was weird, like they'd been startled or something. They looked...” She shrugged, clearly embarrassed that she was even thinking it. “They looked like they'd been scared to death.”  
  
**************************************** ***************  
  
Ianto looked up as he came off the phone, his eyes finding Jack and Cassie almost by instinct as he looked around the room. As they looked back, he inclined his head towards his office and headed towards it, snagging John on the way with just a brush against his arm. Jack couldn't help feeling a little odd about how well the others knew him, that they understood that he wanted them in a private meeting without words. Once, it had only been him who had known Ianto that well, who had been able to read every cue and look on his face-  
  
Pushing it aside, Jack picked up the pace to join Cassie before slowing again, letting her go through first. John had already perched himself on top of a low filing cabinet, looking as though he was about to start swinging his legs like a child or get out a fishing rod and pretend to be a garden gnome. Cassie took the chair opposite Ianto's desk, folding herself demurely into it and pretending not to notice that this put her right in John's eyeline and that he was openly watching her.  
  
Opting to stand, Jack closed the door after them and leaned against the wall beside it, almost as if he was guarding it. Content they were alone, Ianto swung himself into his chair and tossed his phone down onto the desk.  
  
“Lois called, the two coma patients have gone.”  
  
“Dead?” John asked.  
  
“Transferred. They've been taken to the private hospital up at Merthyr. Strangely enough, sometime between them being found and taken to hospital and the time Lois arrived in the building they seem to have been upgraded to private medical cover.”  
  
“So,” John said, clapping his hands together, “we're off to the hospital right? Bust them out of there and see what's making them go screwy?”  
  
“No,” Ianto said quickly, thinking. “It could be innocent. Let's face it, Cardiff does have a number of unusual medical cases, it could simply be this hospital is taking some of the pressure off the NHS resources.”  
  
Cassie laughed once, not a pleasant sound and shook her head. “How altruistic of them. And completely unlikely.”  
  
“Agreed,” Ianto said, resting his hand flat on the fake wood veneer of the desk. “But we can't just go barging in there and accuse them of something, especially as we have no idea what triggered the move.”  
  
“The briefing,” Jack said quietly and they all turned to look at him. “Lois mentioned the two coma patients in the briefing. What if our spy heard that, heard we were going to the hospital but knew they had time to get them out first and let their bosses know?”  
  
“That may be exactly what we're dealing with. In which case, this is both a problem and an opportunity,” Ianto said. “We were just doing routine checks on the coma patients, nothing outside of our normal operations, but something about these two patients might've got someone rattled. And it rattled our spy enough to make them break cover to call out. We may have a chance to catch them.”  
  
“The video of the briefing,” Cassie added, “I'll get my team onto it, just the bit when the coma patients are mentioned, maybe we can catch someone reacting to the news.”  
  
“It's also not been very long since then, most of the team have been working here,” John added, “some haven't left their stations all day and only Dave and Lila have access to outside email without using a phone and everyone's got a company mobile, no personal devices allowed in the office. We can check vids, see who left the office long enough to make a call or who's been using their phones.”  
  
Shaking his head, Ianto frowned. “That won't help much, nearly everyone uses them all the time, it's like an addiction with them. But, we do have all their phone and sim details on record, we can track who has sent what where today and factor that in. Some of them know how to get round the tracking of course, that's part of why we hire them, but they know anybody who does on a company phone is up for instant dismissal, so if we find anyone has-”  
  
“They must've been desperate,” John said. “More likely they nipped out for coffee or a cigarette and grabbed their own phone then. I'll get onto the vids, see who has been outside.”  
  
“We can hopefully rule out Lois and that Tim boy at least, they went straight from the briefing to the hospital together so were never alone,” Jack said, shrugging. “Plus all of Johnson's team were still off duty from last night, and weren't at the briefing, so they should be safe.”  
  
“That's a big relief,” Ianto admitted. “We may really need them if this blows up in our faces. And with the newer technicians ruled out the list must be getting smaller already.”  
  
Cassie nodded, pushing her hair back from her face as she spoke. “It's getting there. I think you're right, this may be our break. Although if the patients are involved, and this is a medical issue, we're probably going to need a doctor on hand, do you have one?”  
  
The men fell silent, exchanging looks before Ianto nodded just once. “She's on leave at the moment. Family issues.”  
  
Cassie just stared at him, her face impassive and completely unconvinced. “Don't make be call bullshit on you Ianto. Even if it wasn't my job and I had never met you before, you're still a terrible liar.”  
  
“Look, it's a long story. She's in London, she isn't available.”  
  
“Have you tried?” Jack asked softly, his gaze seeming to burn as he glanced at Ianto.  
  
“She isn't available,” Ianto repeated firmly, fighting back without even moving and still staring as Jack looked away first. “We don't know how much this spy is feeding out of here but if they're desperate enough to break cover we must be onto something. Cassie, John, get on to spy hunting. I'll start running through the patient histories and get Lois to help when she gets back. Jack, Johnson and the boys will be up and back to drills in a couple of hours, I want you to go out to the warehouse to meet them, brief them on what's happening and get planning.”  
  
Ianto could see the unconvinced looks and shook his head just once, broking no arguments. “Right, get to it.”  
  
  
**************************************** ****  
  
Martha Jones didn't look up from the huddle of blankets as Tish came into the room and put the phone back on the hook, watching her sister closely.  
  
“Who was it,” Martha asked with a tired sigh, “Ianto yet again? That's what, third time this morning?”  
  
“Jack, actually.” Tish moved to sit down on the sofa next to her sister and wondered idly if she would ever get back to work this week and just how long her boss would buy the family emergency excuse before simply firing her. Pushing the thought away, she tucked her feet up under her on the sofa and pulled the edge of one of Martha's blankets over them. “He seems really worried, it might be something serious. Maybe you should call him back?”  
  
“Yeah, right, if it isn't serious, if it's just that they just feel guilty or want to yell at me some more then I just don't care, I don't need any apologies and nothing they say can make me feel worse than I already do, can be worse than what Tom-” Shifting on the sofa, she reached out an arm and tapped a finger against the side of the now cold mug of tea on the table. “And if it is serious, I'm in no fit state to help.” Grabbing another tissue from the box, Martha curled it up in her fist and stared blankly at the TV, some stupid afternoon show blaring cheerily back.   
  
Daytime TV, Nature's fight back against anti-depressants. Grabbing the remote off the side, Tish turned it off, the blank screen flicking up but Martha's gaze not moving. “Okay, so you don't want to call them. What about Tom, have you tried-”  
  
Martha shook her head fiercely and pulled a blanket up over it. “What more can I say to him, seriously? I've told him everything Tish, everything, about the Doctor, about Torchwood, about, about that whole other year, about the other him...”  
  
“The what?” Tish sucked in a breath and stared at the blanket monster that was her sister oddly. “What other him?”  
  
The bundle froze, a single blanket slowly pulling down off the mess of braided hair that was Martha and finally her face appeared. She looked completely wretched and Tish wished there was some way she could make this better, but she was starting to suspect this was beyond anything she or anyone else could fix.  
  
“What other Tom?” she repeated, more forcefully, and Martha shook her head slowly.   
  
“That year, when I was... When I came back, when I came to find you all and got captured, I... Tom Milligan met me on the beach, he was the one who got me back into London.”  
  
Tish closed her eyes and leaned back against the sofa. Oh, she  _hadn't..._  
  
“He was amazing, he was just... so strong and after all he'd been through he still believed in doing what was right and then...” Martha pulled the screwed up tissue from her hand and rubbed it over her eyes fiercely. “The Master was going to kill me, sometimes I wonder if it might've been better if he had, the world would just have reverted around me and I wouldn't have remembered any of it.”  
  
Tish sighed and opened her eyes again. “Why didn't he?”  
  
“Tom,” Martha moaned, her voice muffled. “He got in the way, ran in front of me and-” Sniffing loudly, she began twisting the blankets, fidgeting as though her whole body ached, her heart remembering the sight and hurting all over again. “He sacrificed himself for me Tish. He... He barely knew me but he did that and then, when we got back, when everything was fixed again, I just, I had to see him, just to know he was alright, but he had the same smile and it was just...”  
  
“Let me get this straight,” Tish said with a weary sigh. “You met a tough, kickass Tom who had lived under the Master's rule, who had been persecuted, who had seen God only knows what, had been through hell, and you thought, 'hey this is a great guy, I like him'. Then when it was all over you thought, 'I'll go look up the completely different bloke he was a year before that, the kind doctor who works with children and loves his family and would never, ever, think of firing a gun and see if he wants to hook up.' How am I doing?”  
  
Martha retreated under the blankets again, sliding down to lie sideways on the sofa. “Too bloody well.”  
  
Tish shook her head angrily and stood up off the sofa. “For someone as smart as you're supposed to be, you're a bloody idiot Martha Jones. You've been so busy comparing Tom to the one you met first you never stopped to appreciate the Tom you actually had! No wonder he's so upset, he never stood a chance! I mean, I know I've had some dodgy relationships and have to cope with a few really bad exes in the cupboard, but I've never had to compete with  _myself_  for someone’s affection.”  
  
Staring down at the huddled mass, Tish felt torn, wanting to comfort her sister but at the same time wanting to slap her so badly. Tom was far too nice a guy for this, he had done absolutely nothing wrong. She couldn't help wondering if she would have reacted as badly if Martha had just been having an affair. At least that she could have got her head round, at least that would have made some sort of sense.  
  
“This is what the Doctor does to you, isn't it? Not the risk to life and limb stuff mum was worried about but screwing up your head, making it impossible for you to ever just be happy with a nice, normal guy and a normal life. Oh no, you need to have heroes and fireworks, you can't just get over yourself and be happy for once-”  
  
“D'you remember Chantelle?”  
  
Tish just blinked at the complete change of subject. “What?”  
  
“Chantelle. Used to go to school with me. You were friends with her little brother, Garth.”  
  
Tish nodded and folded her arms in her 'this better be good' manner. “What about her?”  
  
“She always used to go on about Karma. If I ever did something nice for her, she'd say that something good would happen to me in return, or if someone was mean to us, she'd say Karma would catch up with them. I keep wondering, when will my Karma kick in?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Martha moved, her face peeking out from underneath the blankets. “I mean, I've done all this amazing stuff, I... I travelled to the stars, saved people, I flirted with Shakespeare, and I've been kidnapped and cloned and shot out into the sun and I've done all this dangerous and amazing stuff, I've saved the planet, hell I've helped save the whole universe! So, if I've done all that, when does Karma kick in, eh? When do I get some good stuff in my life?”  
  
Tish was genuinely not sure if she was being serious. She knew that heartbreak caused a lot of self pity, that depression made it hard to see the good things in life, but still...  
  
“Martha Jones!” She yelled as she grabbed a cushion and started hitting the blanket pile covering her sister. “Don't you make me come under those blankets and beat you! You, you stupid, self obsessed, egotistical, blind little-”  
  
“What the hell did I do?” Martha squeaked out, shocked.  
  
“What good is there in your life?! You just said it! You've been to the stars, you've met Shakespeare, you travelled in time and you've had the most brilliant experiences! You had a good job with Torchwood, you had a man who loved you so much, friends who would do anything for you. Where is the good stuff? It's all around you! You had everything you could ever want, but oh no, you had to go looking for more, more excitement, more adventure, when are you going to grow up Martha?”  
  
“And another thing,” she carried on, pacing as she got into her stride now and, without knowing it, mimicking their mother when she got really mad. “So you saved the Universe, so what? So did the Doctor, and we all know  _he's_  the happiest creature alive, rest of his race dead, always outliving all his friends, where's his Karma? Jack, he helped too and his reward was immortality that meant he had to sacrifice his own grandson, oh yeah, he's just dripping with happiness. Ianto, even Ianto has saved the world Martha. And you know what, even I've helped out and has it made any of us less human, less able to make mistakes?”  
  
“No,  _really no_ ,” she said, warming to her theme. “I think it just means that our mistakes are even bigger than most, just like our triumphs, because we're all just human.” Tish paused, calming for a second. “Well, except the Doctor obviously, but you know what I mean. We all make mistakes, I mean, I snogged a geriatric monster and took a job working for a psychopath without even asking for a job description first! I keep thinking I must have 'works well with nutters' hidden on my CV somewhere.”  
  
“Which do you regret more?” Martha asked quietly, her eyes surprisingly clear.  
  
“What, the lecherous scorpion or the psychopath?” At Martha's nod she thought about it. “The snog, definitely. I mean, I've had a few guys who looked like hell the morning after, but that was something else completely.” Martha giggled, the sound catching Tish by surprise and she found herself chuckling too. “Ohgod, do you remember that tail? Imagine finding that coming for you under the sheets.” Martha was starting to lose it, tears coming again but of laughter this time, the sound slightly hysterical and not really all right at all, but still, it was something other than misery and that had to be a start, right?  
  
“Imagine if we'd had kids,” Tish added, “imagine me bringing them home to mum, 'hey mum, good news, it's your first grandbug!'” Martha sounded like she was in pain, clutching at her sides as she writhed on the sofa, but Tish grinned and sank down beside her, rubbing a hand over the blanket covered back. “Things could be worse.”   
  
“I guess,” Martha admitted, curling up in the blankets and snuffling as she began to relax, however temporarily. “Still got my health,” she muttered.  
  
“There you go then.” Grabbing the remote, Tish clicked the TV back on and began channel hopping, finally finding an old movie and watching it as she carried on just rubbing Martha's back, soothing her. “Could be worse.”  
  
As soft snores greeted her, she breathed a silent prayer of thanks for the break. There were some things in life she just couldn't fix, and her sister was one of them. So what if Tish had never saved the universe or been to the future, who cared if she wasn't a hero but just did a normal job. She wasn't anything special. But when it came to her sister, she could at least be here with her. Sometimes, that was heroic enough.  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Jack sighed as he hung up the phone and looked out at the Cardiff streets going past the window, Johnson in the driving seat. They sat in silence for a little longer until they pulled up at a red light, Johnson glancing over at him in the pause. “Well? Is she coming?”  
  
Jack shook his head and turned back. “No. Her sister answered the phone, Martha is... Indisposed.”  
  
“Heartbreak is a bitch,” Johnson said quietly, slipping the engine back into gear as the lights changed again.  
  
“You say that like you know what it feels like to lose a marriage.”  
  
Smiling without humour, Johnson focused on the traffic, not quite ignoring her passenger but not letting the conversation distract her from the city traffic. “Captain, just because I choose not to share my personal life-”  
  
“Or your real name.”  
  
“Pot, kettle, black,” she replied instantly, abbreviating the saying to make her point, “just because I don't share my past doesn't mean I popped out fully formed into the secret service. Everyone has a past, Captain. Every single one of my men has had their own demons and angels in their lives, you're not the only one who has ever lost someone or made sacrifices. Yes, yours are bigger than most, but the rest of us have been there too. Don't forget that.”  
  
“Noted, ma'am.”  
  
“Good.” Falling silent for a moment, she checked their location and shrugged, turning into a side road on a quiet residential street. “Speaking of which, we're going to beat the others to the warehouse by a couple of hours. I have some work to do but I don't really need you right away. I could drop you off and have Bill and Ben pick you up on their way in an hour?”  
  
“Pick me up from where?” Jack asked, confusion on his face as she pulled up outside a normal looking house, a single car in the drive and an unassuming façade. “What's here?”  
  
“Gwen.” Johnson turned off the engine and pointed to the house. “This is her house. She and her daughter will be home and no doubt she is being bored useless by some daytime TV show by now. I think she might like a visit.”  
  
“Gwen...” Jack sighed her name, just a breath, and stared out the window with an almost hungry expression. “Her daughter. She must be what, a month old by now?”  
  
“Three,” Johnson said softly. “Angharad. She has her father's eyes and her mother's mouth, sadly.”  
  
Jack laughed and continued to stare out the window, his fingers flexing and curling over the door handle, as though trying to decide whether to open the door. “Angharad. It's a beautiful name.”  
  
“And an ugly baby, but they all are at that age.” Jack laughed again and looked round at her. “It's true. I have yet to see a truly beautiful baby.”  
  
“You say that like you've seen a lot,” Jack said quietly, watching her face as an oddly closed expression came over it.  
  
“Like I said, Captain, we all have a past. And we've all made sacrifices. And mistakes.” Reaching over him, she grabbed the door handle and pulled the plastic, opening the door for him and looking as though she would physically push him out the car if he didn't go voluntarily. “Gwen and I may not have always seen eye to eye, but she deserves to know you're back. From you.”  
  
Jack stared, not quite sure what to make of her as he undid his seat belt. “You're a very confusing woman, Johnson.”  
  
“If it would make you feel more comfortable and back on familiar ground, I'm quite happy to shoot you in the head and dump your corpse on the driveway ready for her to find, but I thought suggesting it nicely might be better in the long run. Ianto says I need to work on my people skills.”  
  
“Thanks,” Jack said with a mock shudder, pushing the door fully open and sliding out of the car before turning to face her, leaning his arms across the top of the door frame. “I'll see you at the warehouse.”  
  
“The boys will be here in an hour or so Captain. Make the most of it.”  
  
“Understood ma'am.” Jack saluted, no mocking in the gesture but instead a genuine respect. She returned the salute with ease as he shut the door and walked away, ready to see an old friend – and a new arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I decided not to actually write the Jack Gwen scene so don't get your hopes up. I prefer that one as a mystery. :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We really don't have enemies, it's just that some of our best friends are trying to kill us.”  
> Unknown

Richard looked up from his cigarette as the door to the roof clicked open behind him, and frowned as Tim slipped through. Taking another drag, he blew it out lazily. Tim shuffled across the rooftop, staying well away from the edges and looking nervously around.   
  
“I thought you were too afraid of heights to come up here?” Richard called out.   
  
“I am. But you're the only smoker I could find. Can I bum a cigarette?”   
  
Richard nodded and retrieved his pack, tapping one out and offering it to him with a smile. “I thought you quit?”   
  
“I did.” Taking the cigarette, Tim rolled it between his fingers, as though relishing the texture and feel of it in his hand, then brought it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Man, did I pick the wrong week to quit smoking.” Savouring the scent, Tim closed his eyes, his expression changing into something Richard could almost imagine to be his sex face.   
  
“Rough day?” Richard asked, watching the way Tim's fingers slid over the slender tube and tried to work out how much of his body must be covered in those tattoos. The creepy emo Goth vibe he gave off with his clothing was bad enough, but the tattoos freaked Richard out more than he wanted to admit. It wasn't just that to get them you had to be stabbed with a needle over and over, or that they often gave a little more insight into a person's personal life and likes than he was comfortable with. It was the sheer permanence of them. He couldn't imagine committing to anything in his life to that extent right now, let alone publicly, and it was a little disconcerting to meet someone who clearly didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of him.   
  
The jealousy had been a big surprise too. With his movie star looks, rich family (Lila had once teased him about his house having wings and servants and he had been unable to bring himself to admit that actually, yes, it did) and, unlike many of his course mates at the top private schools, a brilliant mind to boot, he should have the world at his feet. And here he was, envious of a scruffy little punk from New York with bad taste in music and worse taste in clothes, but complete comfort in his own skin.   
  
Tim sighed deeply, bringing Richard's attention back to the cigarette still clamped between Tim's fingers. As he patted down his pockets for his lighter, he caught Tim shaking his head.    
  
“Don't need a light,” Tim said.   
  
“What?”   
  
Taking one last deep inhale, Tim held the cigarette back out to him and flicked a packet of nicotine gum from his pocket instead. Digging out a piece of gum, he stuck it in his mouth and began chewing fiercely. “Just needed the sensory bit, take the edge off.”   
  
“You just wanted to  _sniff_  it?”   
  
Shrugging without embarrassment, Tim nodded and waved the cigarette again. “Well, yeah. Thanks anyway man.”   
  
“Hold on,” Richard said, stepping back and holding his hands out. “I don't want it back after you've been molesting it! Why don't you keep it for, uh, an emergency or something?”   
  
Tilting his head in thanks, Tim stuck the cigarette behind his ear and flopped down to sit cross legged on the rough surface of the roof, bringing himself below the height of the wall surrounding it and blocking his view of the skyline. Casting a look at the dirt and mess, Richard stayed standing, his forgotten cigarette crumbling ash onto the floor until he noticed it again.   
  
“So.”   
  
“So,” Tim echoed, grinning up from under his long fringe.    
  
“You were at the hospital with Lois, right? How did it go?”   
  
“Okay I guess,” Tim said hesitantly, pulling a biro from his pocket and rolling it between his fingers to replace the cigarette. “Was kinda freaky to be honest. This guy, he,” Tim paused again and grinned sheepishly. “He was kinda hot.”   
  
“Uh huh,” Richard said with a tight smile, awkward and unsure how to respond to that.   
  
“And he was so regular, and just, if I'd met him down the pub I totally would've got on with him. He could've been any of us, but this guy, he'd gone, overnight, from being all normal to being fucked up big time. I mean, he's afraid of the dark, honest to God terrified of shadows. Just got me thinking, you never know what's gonna happen next, one day you're cool and the next, being so afraid, so terrified of something so simple, the thought of it...”   
  
Shivering slightly, Richard carried on smoking, trying to ignore the thought of what ifs and maybes. “So don't think about it.”   
  
“What?” Tim looked surprised and laughed. “No, I don't mean it like- Maybe I do, but I mean, there's scary stuff all the time, like snakes and shit-”   
  
“And heights?”   
  
Tim laughed again, a self deprecating smile on his face as he looked up at Richard. “And heights, and sex, and growing old and all of that. Life's fucking terrifying.”   
  
“Sex,” Richard said tonelessly. “You're afraid of sex.”   
  
“You're not?”   
  
“No!”   
  
“Then you're not doing it right,” Tim chuckled to himself. “Sex is the scariest thing of all, being so vulnerable and naked and helpless-”   
  
“Maybe the way you do it,” Richard muttered to himself, frowning as Tim ducked his head as though it had upset him, then began to feel guilty as he realised how that might sound. “I don't mean- Not because you're gay, I just mean-” He stopped as Tim's shoulders began to shake. Was he crying? “Oh, crap, Tim, I'm sorry, I didn't-”   
  
Tim's loud laugh caught Richard completely by surprise, the sound surprisingly loud and infectious and, if he was honest with himself, ridiculously young and girlie for such a scary looking man. He watched as Tim rolled over onto his back, clutching his sides and laughing so hard he was having trouble drawing breath.   
  
“Oh come on,” Richard said as Tim looked up at him again, pausing for a second before dissolving into fresh peals of laughter. “You're a freak, you know that right?”   
  
Nodding frantically, Tim managed to draw enough breath to roll onto his side before he began coughing, even his relatively few years of smoking enough to be recognisable in the sound. It only took him a few seconds to bring it back under control, but it was enough to break the laughter's hold, and he grinned happily even as he breathed heavily.   
  
“Richard, you are fucking hilarious when you're trying to be all understanding, you know that right?”   
  
“Up yours.”   
  
Tim shrugged. “Appreciate the offer, but you're really not my type.” Patting the rooftop beside him, he beckoned Richard to join him. “Look, I won't bite, the dust'll brush off again, I'm not gonna jump you, nobody's gonna see you and ruin your rep, just get your stuck up British ass down here, you're giving me a stiff neck looking up at you.”   
  
“As long as it's just a stiff neck,” Richard grumbled, lowering himself awkwardly down to the floor.   
  
“Oh, man,” Tim sniggered back, sitting up again and rocking sideways to bump his shoulder against Richard's. “You're just too funny when you loosen up a bit. You should take that stick outta your ass more often. Why don't you say this stuff in the office?”   
  
Richard looked scandalised and finished off his cigarette, stubbing the end out on the floor before tossing it at the bin. “In front of Jones? Are you serious? You do know he's gay right?”   
  
“I heard Bi. And what, liking guys means you have to have a humour-ectomy or something?”   
  
“No, it's just... It's not politically correct.”   
  
Rolling his eyes, Tim leaned back on his elbows, his lanky, black clad, body stretching out as though sunbathing in the cloudy Cardiff daylight. “Politically correct. Life's too short to worry about that. Most of the time any human being opens their mouth, they will offend someone, somewhere. I figure, s'long as most people like it, nobody gets hurt and most of all the intention was good, the rest will figure itself out.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
“Really,” Tim nodded, closing his eyes and tilting his pale face up to a sun that almost seemed surprised to see it again after so long. “Words can hurt, right, but you can change that power, you can reclaim any word you like, change it from an insult and make it into something else. But the intention behind the word, the person saying it, that you can't change.”   
  
“So, it doesn't hurt you when,” Richard broke off, looking distracted as he tried to suppress the memory of the taunts he had attracted at school for his own soft voice and looking so completely out of place on a rugby field, taunts that were somehow all the worse for being so completely untrue. “When someone calls you a faggot, it doesn't hurt?”   
  
“Course it hurts,” Tim said softly, his eyes open now and watching closely, curious. “But it's not the word.” Sitting up again, seemingly unable to keep still for more than a few seconds, even the gum in his mouth being moved and attacked in a relentless stream of energy, he pulled his knee up to his chest and wrapped his arms around it. “I would rather be called a faggot by someone who means it affectionately, who is my friend and is just messin' around 'cause they like me, than be called a 'homosexual male' by some red neck who's itching to get his hands around my neck and teach me a lesson for daring to be all different and scary.”   
  
“Being afraid is a hard thing to get over,” Richard admitted, looking out towards the skyline and trying to resist the urge to light up again.   
  
“Yeah, it is. But that rush when you face a fear, when you step back from the edge again, man...” Tim grinned widely again, his eyes glazing over a little in a way that made Richard wonder just how much of a thrill seeker Tim really was. “It's fucking awesome.”   
  
“Like scary sex,” Richard teased gently.   
  
Tim laughed again, nodding to himself and tilting his head to one side, conceding the point. “Like scary sex. The best sex, really mind blowing, out of this world, sex is always the most terrifying.”   
  
“I do not want to know what you get up to to get to the terrifying point,” Richard said quickly, holding up his hand, as though expecting Tim to whip out a pair of handcuffs, chain him to the handrail around the edge of the wall separating them from a weightless step, and start bull-whipping him mercilessly.   
  
“Dude, you just don't get it, do you?” Tim shook his head. “I don't mean anything kinky or BDSM, 'though that's good too, I just mean... That connection, that givin' up all your barriers and walls we build 'round ourselves, breaking through all that and letting someone else in, givin' them your heart and trusting them so completely, hoping with all you have that they won't break it, that,” he breathed softly, “that's the most fucking terrifying thing in the universe.”   
  
Taking a deep breath, Richard shook his head slowly. “You are such a pussy.”   
  
Tim laughed again, loud and lost in the sound, and this time Richard joined in, feeling himself smiling in spite of his best efforts not to. Wrapping an arm around him, Tim leaned in close, his breathing heavy and still half lost in chuckles as he hugged tight, almost cuddling up to him.    
  
“Cheers Dick, you've really cheered me up, y'know that?”   
  
“Dick.”   
  
“Richard sounds too posh, you need to live a little.”   
  
“But Dick? Do you really see me as a Dick?”   
  
Rolling his eyes, Tim shook his head slowly. “You're hopeless, Sparkles.”   
  
Elbowing him, Richard shrugged off his arm but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. “Freak.”   
  
“Vampire.”   
  
“Faggot.” Giggling, Tim took one last fake drag on his biro and nodded.   
  
“Amen.”   
  
  
**************************************** *****   
  
Ianto looked up as Lois and Cassie came into his office and smiled grimly, directing them to the two chairs he had set up facing his desk. “Lois, I'll get straight to the point, there's something we've not been telling you.”   
  
She froze halfway into the seat, but recovered quickly. Ianto could see the hurt and surprise on her face and felt guilty at having done this to her at all. On the other hand, he was very grateful he would be able to have her help again now that they had been able to rule her out; a check of the CCTV had confirmed that she had not been alone between the briefing and the hospital, so couldn't have warned anyone outside of Torchwood, and Cassie and her team's analysis had not shown any sign of lying.   
  
Ianto couldn't quite admit to himself that it was actually what Jack had told him about their chat in her office that had convinced him the most.    
  
“Cassie isn't just an independent specialist brought in to help with this case. She's actually here to try and find a spy in the team.”   
  
Lois' face jumped, only for a second or so, her complete surprise obvious but quickly fading and turning to something like anger as she looked between the two of them. “So, are you telling me this now because I'm innocent or because you think I'm guilty?”   
  
“Innocent,” Cassie said quickly, shaking her head. “I'm sorry we had to lie to you, this could only work if everyone else was acting as naturally as possible, it's so easy to give something away. The fewer people who knew why I was here the better.”   
  
“It was my call,” Ianto said softly, drawing his bemused protégée's attention back to him. “I had to be sure, after you spent so long in jail there was no way of being sure whether something had happened to you there, especially in the time between us approaching you and us getting you out. I'm sorry.”   
  
Lois looked a little hurt, but she nodded once, blowing out a long breath. “I'm sorry you didn't know you could trust me, but... Fact is, they did try to recruit me to spy on you, so I can't really blame you.” Both Ianto and Cassie exchanged surprised looks, afraid they had somehow got it wrong after all. “I told them where to go, but for a second I thought... I considered it.” She hesitated, looking down. “When you said you were looking for a spy, I thought for a second they had somehow told you that offer and made it look like I had said yes.”   
  
“Lois, I...”   
  
“It's okay, sir,” she said quickly, looking up again. “I don't think I would have liked to try and work out who to trust here. I've not been here that long really, so I had to be on the list. But I hope, S-, Ianto, that this means you know you can trust me now?” Nodding, Ianto smiled slightly and felt relieved when she smiled back, her face still a little hurt but taking it well. “Then I assume you're about to bring me up to speed on what's going on?”   
  
“Of course.”   
  
“Great.” Grabbing her notepad and pen, Lois looked up, the slight put aside and her love of a challenge taking over.   
  
“Right, so, what we know so far...” As he went through the details, Ianto was all too aware of Cassie's gaze locked on Lois' face, double checking, reading every expression for any sign of what she might have known already from some other source.    
  
When done, he caught the smallest smile from Cassie and tried not to let out a sigh of relief. All clear.   
  
“Okay, so that's where we are for now. But what I want you to do, to start with I need you going over those missing patient's histories, anything you can get from the files to suggest why they were affected and how. I've made a start, but I need you to expand the search, see if there are any other cases further back. We'd usually use the computer searches, but until we find our spy I need you to bypass the main servers and use the direct link into the NHS databases, that way it won't show up on the system yet.”   
  
“We're still not sure who we can trust from the team, but Cassie and I are going to head over to the warehouse to meet up with Johnson's team and go through the footage you brought back from the hospital. We think the coma patients are the key, but we don't want to let on how much we know. What we need from you is to stay here and keep an eye on the technicians. We've narrowed down the list of who we are sure we can trust but there's still a lot of maybes. I need...”   
  
Ianto hesitated, then nodded to Cassie and watched as she handed over the list. “I need you to keep an eye on things, make sure everyone is still working hard and busy, but more than that, you know those kids better than anyone else on the management team. I need you to let me know if there is anyone there you think might be capable of betraying us, anyone who leaves the office, goes to their locker, that sort of thing. And anyone who might have known Dr Reed, I know he was only here a few days, but anything might help.”   
  
Looking at the list, Lois nodded slowly. “I'll do my best sir.” He could see her surprise at some of the names. “Sir, I...”   
  
“What is it?” Ianto asked quickly.   
  
“I just... Lila.”   
  
Cassie looked round, curious, her gaze fixed on Lois' face. “What about Lila?” she asked softly.   
  
“It's gonna sound daft, but... Something she said once. She was asking about Jack, I think about Jack's gun being old. I figured it was just some reference she'd come across in the archives, or one of the photos Gwen had on her wall. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I forgot none of the techs ever met Jack and you did say anything unusual...”   
  
Ianto looked surprised, but nodded quickly. “Understood. Anything you can think of might help so let us know straight away if you have anything else.”   
  
“Of course.”   
  
“Right.” Ianto nodded to himself and glanced at Cassie again. “In which case, we'd better get moving.”   
  
**************************************** ***************   
  
Bill leaned on the horn one more time and was finally rewarded with the door to Gwen's house opening,a harassed wave of a hand coming through it. Satisfied that Jack was, if not there already, at least on his way, the soldier leaned back in his seat and glanced over at Ben. The other man had a small notebook on his lap and Bill could just about make out scrawling lines of handwriting covering the pages.   
  
For all Ben had the most meticulous attention to detail in most aspects of his life, his handwriting still looked like the footprints of a drunken bee dancing the directions to the nearest pint of cider. Resisting the urge to try and read it, Bill sighed and pointed past his partner out the window as the Captain and Gwen finally appeared.   
  
“'Bout bloody time.” Bill rolled his eyes as he watched the pair embrace. “Blimey, they seem a bit close for old friends. Reckon he's slipped her one before?”   
  
He could almost feel Ben's disapproval as the book snapped shut and Ben followed his gaze. “Looks perfectly innocent to me. Do you have to reduce everything to sex?”   
  
“One of us has to,” Bill grumbled. “Must admit, she's looking much hotter now. Pregnant women are not a turn on.”   
  
“Oh I don't know, there's something sort of glowing about them, that almost Mona Lisa smile and the way they hold themselves, like they are holding the greatest secret on the planet. It's beautiful.”   
  
Bill had taken a while to get used to this, to the way Ben acted when they were alone as opposed to in public or in the team. Together, Ben seemed to mimic Bill, his speech patterns and tone, even the way he held himself. At first he had thought Ben was taking the mickey, but eventually he'd realised the truth. Ben's shyness was bad enough that it was safer to pretend, to be someone else for a while, than to let anyone in. Besides, in his case imitation really was the highest form of flattery. Together, they had practically turned it into a double act, and he enjoyed it now.    
  
But he preferred this, these quiet moments, when the armour dropped and the real Ben emerged. The only other people he'd seen Ben do this with was Johnson, Big Ears and Noddy. Although maybe he was starting to with Lois. That was a good sign, he hoped his partner was going to starting to relax a little more. It was good.   
  
Of course, that didn't mean he was going to tease him about it any less.   
  
“Seriously Ben, that girl last weekend, please tell me you fucked her at least or I am seriously gonna start thinking you're still a virgin at this rate.”   
  
“And would that be such a bad thing?” Ben asked simply, turning to face his partner again. “Why is it socially more acceptable to sleep with many partners than it is to sleep alone?”   
  
“Oh don't bloody start, I'm starting to think you were born in the wrong century mate, you should've been some crusader or something, protecting English maidens and dying nobly and chaste like some stupid fairytale.”   
  
“If I didn't know you were straighter than a Roman road, I'd start worrying that all this concern over my love life was out of jealousy,” Ben retorted with a sly smile.   
  
“Fuck off,” Bill grumbled. “You think being chaste is a big deal, with half this Torchwood lot I'm starting to think straight may be a dirty word.”   
  
“I think Captain Hart, for one, just considers it a challenge.”   
  
“He is such a-”   
  
“Captain's coming.”    
  
Bill fell silent as Jack finally made his way to the car, Gwen retreating to her doorway to wave them off. She almost reminded Bill of old black and white photographs of the wife left behind, watching her husband go off to war.   
  
This was ridiculous. Now Ben had him at it too.   
  
Jack opened the door and slid into the back of the Land Rover, throwing them quick grins as he belted up. “Thanks for the lift boys.”   
  
“No worries, sir,” Ben answered smoothly, his eyes watching the mirror slightly too closely. Following a discreet nod, Bill turned around and grinned to himself as he saw a red mark on the Captain's cheek that looked a lot like a slap mark.   
  
“Did you have a good visit?”   
  
“Huh?” Jack caught them staring and brushed his fingers over his cheek with a smile. “Oh, that. Yeah, remind me to call ahead next time, sometimes 'surprise' doesn't get you the reaction you wanted.”   
  
Grinning, the soldiers turned back to face the front and pulled away from the street, Ben waving back to Gwen as they pulled out of sight. Bill resisted the urge to tease him with company in the car and instead focused on the road ahead.   
  
That didn't mean he wouldn't rib him for it later though...   
  
**************************************** ********************   
  
Big Ears pulled the metal door closed after him with a clang, and slid the bolts shut, sealing them all into the small room that Noddy had nicknamed the 'ready room'. It was hidden within their own warehouse building, just a small two storey unit converted from old shipping crates that held some of their equipment downstairs, and the briefing room upstairs. The room was narrow and a tight fit when the whole team was in there, but the neat rows of chairs facing the front and the display screens on the wall were all it needed to fulfil its purpose.    
  
The briefing room was now full of Johnson's entire team, even those who would usually be off duty at this time, as well as the two Captains, Ianto, and the visitor, Cassie. But, in spite of the full house, Big's usual chair was held for him, his brother's foot casually resting on the grey plastic, the boot only sliding free when Big Ears came to claim it.   
  
Slipping into place, he looked up as Johnson strode across the front by the screen, her face impassive as always but a tension in her moves giving away something of her urge to be doing something rather than sitting around waiting. Still, if the boss was here it had to be important.   
  
“Gentlemen. We have a bit of a delicate situation...”   
  
As she went on to explain about the likely presence of a spy in their midst, he could feel himself hardening, angry at the thought of anyone able to do that to their team. Try as he might though, he somehow couldn't see any of the young technicians being involved in something like this. They were just kids, what could they possibly have to gain from it; Torchwood and the Mr Copper foundation was an incredible opportunity, one he would have quite literally killed for to have available to his brother.    
  
Not that they weren't doing pretty well on their own without it.   
  
Nudging the edge of his boot against Noddy's he shot his brother a small smile and saw a begrudging nod in return. It was a little scary to think that someone might be selling them out and suddenly their personal paranoia didn't seem so unjustified after all.   
  
Johnson finished talking, moving to one side and lowering the lights as a video started. The hospital looked a little odd, but the sound of Lois' voice was clear, then a voice he didn't recognise until the figure moved into shot. Tim, the emo rocker kid. He was an odd one, but as he talked to the patient Big Ears couldn't help admiring the way he kept the guy calm. Especially as he began to talk about the darkness...   
  
The darkness. Closing his eyes, Big Ears listened to the patient's voice, the way he described the feeling, like there was something in the dark. It was so familiar somehow...   
  
The house. The candle going out. The girl whimpering-   
  
Something in the dark.   
  
Opening his eyes, Big Ears looked straight at his brother, kicking the side of his boot urgently and getting his attention. Noddy looked at him questioningly, not sure what the problem was, and leaned in close enough to let his brother whisper to him.   
  
“The house. I felt that, at the house. Did you?”   
  
Noddy shook his head just a fraction, his eyes widening as he leaned in close, as something occurred to him. “The girl, she was terrified. What if it wasn't an overdose after all?”    
  
“Shit.”   
  
Big Ears leaned in again, ready to continue their conversation, but stopped as the video ended and the lights came up. Johnson returned to the front and looked at him curiously, her face giving away that she had spotted them whispering.   
  
“Gentlemen, any thoughts?”   
  
Big Ears nodded and sat up straight again, not quite sure he was going to admit to this. It was like announcing he believed in fairies or ghosts or-   
  
Aliens. Well,  _that_  pretty much cinched it.   
  
“What the patient was describing,” he said quickly, before he lost his conviction in his own memory, “the feeling about something being in the dark. I didn't really remember it at first, but the haunted house. The room where I found the girl who was hospitalised, there was a candle in there, but it went out whilst I was in the room and that was when it began.”   
  
“When what began?” Jack interrupted quickly, shifting in his chair to turn and face Big Ears.   
  
“The kids, they – it was more than one, I remember there was at least two – they started to make noises, like they were having a bad dream. It was,” he paused, a wry smile on his lips, “it was really freaky to be honest, like something out of a horror film and for a second I felt...”   
  
Glancing at his brother for reassurance, he shrugged and continued. “I felt like there was something there, in the dark, like I was being hunted, kind of like in the games. And then the girl started getting really upset, it sounded like... Well, it sounded like someone was hurting her, you know? But when I turned on my torch I dunno, it passed, I couldn't feel it any more and most of the kids woke up. But she was on her own, along one side of the room and still out of it.”   
  
“The other coma victims were all found alone,” Jack pointed out. “But you said there were a few people in that room, that doesn't match the coma patients, maybe it was the house? Maybe it's something there or its stronger somehow?”   
  
Noddy looked at his brother and shrugged apologetically. “I didn't feel anything like that downstairs, but it was still well lit and there was lots of people around so maybe it was just in the dark or upstairs. I didn't really notice much, no odd feelings except....” Noddy blushed just slightly, the faintest strip of red across the top of his cheekbones that caught his brother's eye as he faced the front, almost avoiding Big Ears' gaze. “If anything, the general feeling downstairs was a really good one. Very... Happy.”   
  
“Happy?” Johnson asked.   
  
Noddy glanced at his brother again before nodding. “If anything it was a little bit like being high, just soft stuff, but still not as intense. It was from outside, not like it was inside me, but more of a rush from other people, like being at a concert or a rally or something.”   
  
“Or church,” Ianto said quietly, almost too quiet to be heard in the small room, but enough to draw Jack's attention.    
  
“So,” Jack said, standing up and moving to the front of the room, pacing a little as he spoke. “We've got people who are alone, and in the dark, feeling... Scared, like there's something with them. And we've got people in a crowd feeling... Happy, connected, euphoric. And in some people it's reacting badly, causing some sort of damage and sending them into comas. Maybe something is stimulating strong emotions, maybe it's some sort of chemical, something in the water? The air?”   
  
“We carry out regular tox screens around the city,” Ianto clarified, “water, local produce, the usual suspects, and nothing has shown up. Besides, the House was an hours drive away, it can't be airborne or we'd have noticed before now.”   
  
“Okay, so it's maybe not a physical contaminant, maybe a psychic disturbance?” Jack glanced at John this time and to his surprise Big Ears could see the other man considering it seriously.   
  
“Maybe. We don't have any way of scanning for it though, only visitors I know of with this strength are the Wraitheen and they're the biggest pacifists in the galaxy. No need to be aggressive, no bugger can fight their own shadow anyway, so they've no real predators outside their own world.”   
  
“Doesn't mean there isn't someone out there capable of this. But,” Jack admitted, frowning as he dropped into a chair again, “there were victims in Cardiff and the Haunted House on the same night, they're so far apart it can't really be a single creature on foot, even if it was that.”   
  
“What about the rift?” Ianto asked. “There are records in the archives of the rift enhancing psychic powers, we haven't been able to monitor the rift properly for a year, what if it's spreading?”   
  
“Now there's a nasty thought,” Jack admitted. He looked up, concerned. “Let's hope it's not, but maybe we can figure out a way to check for that later. Besides, it might be something more controllable, maybe some kind of virus?”   
  
John shrugged again and leaned back in his chair. “If it is, we need the victims to work that out and your coma patients have been pinched mate. What about the guy in the video, we get any blood work from him?”   
  
Ianto nodded. “Back at the office, we got some from the hospital and Lois has the techs going over it now. But if it's affecting different people in different ways we really need more samples than that.” He glanced up at Jack as the older man paused in his pacing. “We need to get access to those coma patients.”   
  
“Or we need to check out that haunted house, that seemed to be a big focal point, it might be something geographic, maybe the rift is spreading and we can pick up the tears from there.”   
  
“Hang on,” Johnson interrupted, standing up again. “So far we have too many loose threads and no real targets.”   
  
“No real target?” Jack replied, surprised. “I'd say the house is the target, we go check it out again, search for rift activity, check for anything odd-”   
  
“But what about the patients?” Johnson snapped back. “We have no idea what we're dealing with, if anything. All we know is our spy didn't want us getting our hands on those people, so I'd say they are the best lead. We need to get into that hospital-”   
  
“Oh really? You want to just walk into a private hospital and bust out two patients and God only knows what equipment they need to stay alive and, what, throw them over your shoulders-”   
  
“Wouldn't be the first time,” John piped up. “I remember when-”   
  
“Whereas you'd much rather just leave them to it,” Cassie said over him, “leave them in the hands of God only knows who, let them suffer-”   
  
“They're in  _comas_ ,” Jack said with an air of exasperation, “it's not like they're being tortured, it's a hospital, they'll be fine-”   
  
“Right, because doctors never ever make things worse-” Cassie yelled back.   
  
“Just shut up, please!” Ianto shouted, standing up and holding his hands out. “Enough. Look, Jack's right, we can't just go marching into a hospital-”   
  
“Thanks-” Ianto cut him off with an angry look.   
  
“But they are still the best lead we have so Lois is  _already_  on the case. She may turn up something else. In the meantime, the house is empty and worth investigating if only to rule it out and give you all something real to do to stop you biting each other's heads off!”   
  
Ianto sighed, hands on his hips as he regarded the group. “Johnson, I want you to put a team together and head out there again, tonight, see what the situation is. And take Jack and John with you, I want the two Captains to check for rift activity.” With an apologetic shrug to Johnson, he clarified his reason. “They are the only ones with any real experience of the rift who can go with you, our resident rift expert is still a suspect, and I can't risk him knowing about the house just in case he's the spy.”   
  
“Understood,” Johnson said, her jaw tight as she stared at Jack.   
  
“And whilst you're in the area,” Ianto added, “I want Big Ears and Noddy to go to the hospital, incognito if possible, and check on the girl as the doctors there know you already, play up the whole concerned good Samaritan angle and avoid mentioning Torchwood unless you have to. See if you can sneak out a blood sample and see how she's doing.”   
  
“Yes, Sir,” Big Ears said quickly.   
  
“Good. Jack, John, if there's any equipment you need-”   
  
“I'll need some stuff from Johnson's place, and the firing range” John said quickly, rubbing his hands over his thighs as though emphasising his missing holsters. “And a couple of pieces from the reclaimed tech box over in storage by the docks. Might come in handy.”   
  
“Okay.” Ianto took a deep breath. “John, you come with me to the stores, I'll unlock it and then once you've got what you need I'll drop you back here and head to the office. Cassie, I want you to go over that video again with your people and see if there is anything else you can get from it. I need you to stay here for now, I don't want this video being played at the office, and there's all the equipment you need here anyway. Johnson, we already have the specs for the house, I suggest you start formulating a search strategy and get your men ready.”   
  
Big Ears could see the side of Johnson's jaw clenching at being told what to do by a civilian, but she bit back any retorts and instead simply nodded. “Yes sir.”   
  
“Right. Let's get going.”   
  
  
**************************************** ******   
  
Lois barely looked up at the knock at her office door, but instead quickly pushed the list of names out of sight under another pile of papers and flicked her screen back to the normal Torchwood server. “Come in.” She breathed a small sigh of relief as Tim stuck his head around the door, at the same time confident but looking oddly nervous as he slipped into her office.   
  
“Am I disturbing you?”   
  
“No, it's fine.” Lois smiled broadly, indicating the chair by the window and watching as the young man folded his slender limbs into its frame. “What can I do for you?”   
  
“It's gonna sound odd,” he admitted, slipping his work phone out of his pocket, the model instantly familiar to her. “You know I gave Michael my number, the guy from the hospital?”   
  
She tried not to smile too much at that, remembering the simultaneously relieved and interested look the patient had given Tim. Whether Tim had intended it as a possible come on was anyone's guess; the guy was just naturally that friendly, but it had still been fun to watch. “Yes, I remember.”   
  
“I'm not sure if it was him, I mean, I don't know the number, and it's not signed or anything, but I got a weird message. It's probably nothing, but I tried calling the number back and it wasn't answered the first time, then it went straight to voice mail the second.”   
  
“If it is him, he probably just got told off by the doctor for using his phone in the hospital,” Lois said softly, her attention already drifting back to her screen as the NHS database updated again, sending a new set of results to her computer.   
  
“Maybe, but the message...” She looked up as Tim stood, twisting the phone in his fingers, the tattoos on his wrist almost seeming to dance with the movement as he offered it to her. Taking it, she glanced at the screen and frowned as she tried to take in the small characters.   
  
_WTF gng on? Whr r u tkng me TW? I TRSTD U!_   
  
“I don't...” Lois' frown deepened as she translated the message as best she could. “What's going on... where are you... taking me? TW... I trusted you.” Looking up at Tim, she shook her head quickly. “I don't understand, you think Michael sent this?”   
  
“He's the only person I've given this number to that I don't already have theirs programmed in. If it's him, sounds like someone is trying to take him somewhere.” Tim looked worried and she could see his fingers drumming against his thighs as he spoke. “I think... Can we check on him, just to be sure?”   
  
“Of course, if you want to,” Lois agreed, reaching for her own phone to call the hospital. “TW...” She said thoughtfully. “Oh, Tim W? That makes sense.”   
  
“'cept my last name is Adams, and I never told him that anyway,” Tim said quickly. “But I had a quick look online and I think I know what TW might be.”   
  
“Oh?” Lois passed him his phone back as her call began to connect and the automated Hospital system kicked in.   
  
“Yeah. TW is what some of Dave's lot call us. It's short for Torchwood.” The young man hunched his shoulders and looked deeply concerned, fidgeting as he stood there like a nervous child in the headmaster's office. “Sounds like he thinks Torchwood's trying to take him somewhere. I'd kinda hoped you were gonna tell me we had.”   
  
Shaking her head slowly, Lois raised a hand to stop him as the call was answered and she quickly navigated the layers of bureaucracy. “He was?” she said quickly as she got the news she had really hoped she wouldn't hear. “When? Okay, thanks.” Hanging up, she looked up at Tim and could see the worry turning into guilt and really hoped they hadn't put Michael in danger with their visit. “They say he was transferred out about thirty minutes ago.”   
  
“Did they say who took him?” Tim asked hopefully, his hands fidgeting their way into his pockets in a way that reinforced her mental image of him as a small boy.   
  
“Yes,” Lois sighed, shaking her head as she bit her lip thoughtfully. “According to their records, he was moved by order of Torchwood.”   
  
  
**************************************** *******   
  
Jack hung back, watching closely as John went off into a corner with Ianto; the way they leaned in close to talk, their expressions slightly harried but at the same time friendly, trusting-   
  
“Hmm,” a female voice said, “anger, jealousy, and maybe even a hint of fear. Captain, you are ugly when you're pissed off, did anyone ever tell you that?”   
  
Jack's glare deepened as Cassie moved in front of him, making it hard for him to continue watching Ianto without at least acknowledging her presence. “Don't you have anything better to do than torment me?”   
  
“I consider it a perk of the job.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, her lingering feelings about Jack all too evident on her face. “I said I'd work with you, I never said I'd pretend to like you. Besides, if I started being  _nice_  to you, wouldn't it just be too weird?”   
  
“I'm willing to take the chance,” Jack snarled, before spotting Ianto starting to move off again. “Excuse me.” Pushing past her he hurried after Ianto. “Ianto,” Jack said, pulling him to one side with a glare at John. Smirking, the other Captain simply strolled on, Cassie trailing after him with one last stare, the pair leaving them in peace. For now at least. “Look, I don't know if it's relevant, but that feeling, like there was something in the dark, I felt it last night too.”    
  
Ianto's eyebrows, ever expressive, seemed to go into overdrive for a moment, unsure whether to settle on shocked, surprised or flabbergasted. Eventually they calmed down to simply worried and he finally spoke. “What- What exactly did you feel?”   
  
“I just...” Jack glanced round as the commandos started to move again and pulled Ianto deeper into the warehouse, the layout engrained into his memory as surely as the Hub had been. “I was half asleep, I thought at first I was just dreaming, but that feeling, like being watched, I felt that, and then it was like... Like something was there, making me relive all my worst memories, I could feel it there with me, feeding off me.”   
  
“Are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?”   
  
“No, at least I don't think so anymore. I've had plenty of dreams in my time Ianto, and more than a couple of psychic encounters, and this definitely felt like the latter. I thought I saw something in the darkness.” Jack stared hard at Ianto, trying to convince him, and a part of his heart sank at the thought that he actually had to work at that now, that Ianto couldn't just look at him and know, couldn't read it in his eyes-   
  
“John just said the same thing.”   
  
Whatever Jack had been hoping or expecting Ianto to say, that wasn't it.  _“What?”_   
  
“Different circumstances, but a similar sensation. He said up until that point it had been fine, perfectly normal, but when it happened he was... Not fully aware of his surroundings-”   
  
Jack laughed coldly. “You mean he was coming.”   
  
Wincing, Ianto ignored Jack's remark. “He was short on air and probably close to passing out-”   
  
“I thought I saw fingermarks on his neck, he always was a bit too keen on that. Surprised he hasn't managed to fuck himself to death yet, but there's always hope.”   
  
“Do you want to sort this out or make cheap shots?” At Ianto's angry outburst Jack stopped, grinning slightly to try and show he was just kidding. “Look, John reported something similar. Big Ears felt it at the house. You felt it. If it was a bunch of strangers I'd say you were all just being suggestible after seeing that video, and it may be true, but I don't know, it doesn't feel like a coincidence. You all dismissed it as nothing, a trick of the light, a bad dream, but if this  _is_  real, then who knows how many people are experiencing this and dismissing it too. We need to know what's causing it, and why some people are falling ill from it.”   
  
“So what do we do about it?”   
  
“What we always do,” Ianto said tiredly, looking older than his years, “we look into it, muddle through as best we can and hope we don't end up making it worse.”   
  
“And plan B?”   
  
“Same as always,” he admitted with a smile. “Get a much bigger gun...”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A brother is a friend God gave you; a friend is a brother your heart chose for you.”  
> Proverb

Noddy fidgeted in the passenger seat of their borrowed car and tried not to think about how much longer he was going to be in it. He wasn't a great traveller at the best of times, and knowing they were going back to that house, that the rest of the team were going to be with them but they were going to be the odd ones out... Their civilian clothing that had been so comfortable the night before now felt wrong, too restrictive, not protective enough. He felt exposed, vulnerable, as though two parts of his world that he had tried so very hard to keep separate for so long were going to collide.  
  
He felt like a kid again, and that was never a good feeling.  
  
Fidgeting again, he tried to get comfortable, running a hand through his growing hair and trying to remember why he thought it was such a good idea. Suddenly all he wanted was a good crew cut and a combat uniform and someone to tell him what to do and what not to. He wanted some discipline and control back, even if it was all in someone else's hands.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Big Ears voice cut straight through the worry in Noddy's head and he forced a smile onto his face. “Just wishing you'd let me drive every now and then.”  
  
Laughing, Big Ears shook his head quickly. “We're supposed to be inconspicuous, not drawing attention to ourselves. You can drive the 'Rover, that's supposed to look like it's being driven by a robot.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Noddy muttered, a more genuine smile on his face at the teasing. “I drive fine.”  
  
“You drive like you were taught by a Sergeant with a major boner for straight lines and strict adherence to the speed limit. Come on little brother, you still drive with your hands at 10 and 2 and never, ever, let them cross over.”  
  
“Just 'cause some of us prefer to get there in one piece without all the messing about you get up to-”  
  
“You mean actually enjoying driving? Having a little fun with it? Living a little?”  
  
“Fine, but you said it, next time we're in the Rover instead of this piece of crap, I can drive.”  
  
“I never said that,” Big Ears said quickly, earning a punch to his arm at his attempt to backtrack. “Ow, what the fuck?! Do not try to dead arm the fucking driver!”  
  
“Why not, thought you liked driving like you've only got one arm on the wheel anyway. Not that in this thing you could tell anyway, I mean, whose is this anyway?”  
  
“Huh?” Big Ears glanced round, still distracted by keeping his now sore left arm on the wheel and rubbing it with his good right one. “Oh, Debs, that archaeologist girl, not many of them have a car and most of the big wigs lot were too nice. No way was I gonna borrow Ianto's, and Lois would kill me if I got a scratch on hers.”  
  
Chuckling, Noddy wriggled again in his seat. “You know, Ben has a bit of a thing for her.”  
  
“Really?” Big Ears looked round, surprised, before forcing his attention back onto the road. “I thought it was Bill.”  
  
“Well, they do share everything else,” Noddy said with a philosophical air.  
  
“That's what they say about us kid, but I am not sharing that with you.”  
  
Noddy pulled a face then smiled slightly. “Probably just as well, we have very different taste sometimes.”  
  
“You're telling me,” Big Ears agreed wholeheartedly. “Which reminds me...” The sly nudge in his tone put Noddy on edge as he stared at him. “That guy from last night, did you manage to get a number or was it a one dance sort of thing?”  
  
Blowing out a deep breath, Noddy closed his eyes and stared blindly up at the ceiling of the car. “Well, the fact that you didn't try to feed him his own teeth made it a better evening than some-”  
  
“Once!”  
  
“Twice, remember that club in Soho-”  
  
“You were barely legal and he was old enough to be your-” Big Ears broke off, realising he couldn't really talk considering the girl he had been with at the time.   
  
“Brother?”  
  
“Old enough to know better anyway.” Noddy grinned as his brother made a point of checking the sat nav again, prodding it with a finger to distract them and change the subject. “I hate these things, give me a map any day.”  
  
“A map, a compass, a tent and a bottle of vodka. Each.”  
  
“Windy's stag do, man that was a good weekend,” Big Ears agreed with a heartfelt sigh. “Shame about running into that stray weevil nest.”  
  
“Oh come on, that was half the fun.”  
  
“Not for them it wasn't.”   
  
“True.” Noddy fell silent again, staring out the window until finally saying what was on his mind. “What you said about that house, about thinking something was there. You really felt that?”  
  
Big Ears nodded slowly, wishing he could pass it off as nothing, but the feeling, the memory, was more concrete in his mind the more he thought about it. “I did.”  
  
“You okay about going back in there?”  
  
They fell silent again, the memory of a hundred places they never wanted to see again shared in silence in the small car. Shrugging, Big Ears gripped the steering wheel tighter. “That's the job. We face our fears, we walk in the dark places no others will enter-”  
  
“-We stand on the bridge and no one may pass,” Noddy carried on with a huge grin. “Anla'Shok forever. Babylon 5 rocked, never did thank Pete's big brother for introducing us to it.” Sighing, he shook his head. “We are such geeks sometimes.”  
  
“Yeah, but we're cute enough to get away with it.”  
  
“Amen to that.”  
  
“Right, enough talk, find a radio station with something resembling proper music on it before I go crazy.”  
  
“Yes sir.”  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Ianto hung up his mobile, the car stopped at the side of the road. John was in the passenger seat, his fingers drumming against the dashboard as he waited for Ianto to finish the call. “All alright?” John asked.  
  
“No, really not. Our video star with a fear of the dark has gone missing. Someone took him from the hospital using our name.”  
  
“Shit, you think our mole got him taken?”  
  
“I guess so,” Ianto said calmly before slamming his hands against the steering wheel. “Fuck. This is going to go straight to hell isn't it?”  
  
“It hasn't yet,” John pointed out, “even with your ex back on the scene.”  
  
“He's not my ex.”  
  
John laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, your boyfriend and  _my_  ex is back on the scene. Y'know, I still say a good threesome is the only way to resolve this.”  
  
“Shut up,” Ianto said tiredly, turning his head to look at John. “Don't you ever stop thinking about sex?”  
  
John thought for a moment then nodded. “'Course I do.”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Yeah.” John grinned. “There's also money.”  
  
Closing his eyes, Ianto rested his head and his arms against the top of the steering wheel. “Lord, give me strength...”  
  
“You sound like a bloody soldier,” John muttered, shuddering to himself. “Can't stand those religious types, way too serious for me.”  
  
Ianto regarded him sideways. “You said soldier, not priest.”  
  
“Same thing aren't they?” John shrugged. “Well, they will be anyway. You think the crusades were a religious war, wait until the 49th century, that was a hell of a party. For some reason not many aliens really took to adopting some human with bad dress sense as their personal saviour. 49th Century was carnage. Post war celebrations made for a cracking 51st though, gotta love that party spirit.”  
  
“I just want to see a bit more of the 21st Century,” Ianto mumbled as he started the car up again. “I'm not asking for much, just a bit more of this century and maybe to enjoy a few good days out of that, is that so much to ask?”  
  
“I'm always willing to help with those good days...”  
  
“Sex again.”  
  
“If it makes you feel any better, I can start charging a fee and we can make it about money instead?”  
  
“John, what would make me feel better is-” Ianto sighed as his phone rang again and glanced at the display, clicking the engine off again. “Gwen, I'd better take it.”  
  
John nodded and sat back, contenting himself with checking through his things, his holsters back on his thighs and his sword propped up against his leg in its sheathe. He usually left them at the office, but with the weapons practice that morning and the blackout the night before he had felt safe reclaiming them, even if only for a few hours. He had intended to return them later but-  
  
“Gwen, I didn't- It was Jack's call, I wasn't going to just force him- I'm sorry, but how is this suddenly my fault-” Sighing, Ianto put his phone on mute and shook his head at John. “This could take a while, we're almost there, do you want to-”  
  
Nodding, John opened the door and swung himself out of the car, strapping the sheathe of his sword around his waist as he grinned at Ianto, Gwen's voice all too audible over the line. “I'll walk, anything rather than get involved in that, but if I get arrested for carrying a weapon by some bloody newbie cop again you're on bail duty. Good luck mate.”  
  
Nodding distractedly, Ianto waved him off and returned to the call. This was going to take some explaining. Hopefully he could head her off with news of the coma disasters before she threatened to remove his status as godfather; after all, even bad news has its uses sometimes...  
  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Lois growled low in her throat as she pushed the papers back away from herself and stared without seeing at the rows of data on the screen. This wasn't working. No matter how hard she tried to look at it she just couldn't see a pattern. She needed the main server, there were just too many variables, this was taking too long-  
  
And she had a very bad feeling about it, like there was something really obvious staring her in the face but she couldn't quite see it. There was a suggestion of a pattern, but it was like looking at a stained glass window or jigsaw from too close up; she could see the colours and fragments of the idea but not be able to make out the whole picture yet. She just needed to be able to pull back from it, she needed to be able to organise it just right to see it, to find the right way of looking at it. She could feel she was focusing in too close, letting her preconceptions blind her to... something.  
  
She needed a break or a fresh pair of eyes. Or the processing skills of the main server.  
  
Which meant possibly alerting someone to what she was doing.  
  
Lois couldn't ask anyone else for help and Ianto was still on his way back from the stores. She couldn't take too much of a break herself, which left taking the risk the best option and just hoping no one spotted her. Suddenly she felt like she was the spy instead of the rest of the team, her heart pounding like it had in the conference room in Westminster, listening to her bosses, people who had pledged to protect her and the rest of the country calmly discussing which of its citizens to sacrifice. They had been looking at all the options, talking as though it was a calm and rational thing to do, as though they had looked at every detail-  
  
Lois grinned, almost jumping up from her desk. That was  _it_ .   
  
Forcing herself to sit down again she began typing, making a list of every single thing she could think of to get the computer to check; medical reports for comas, falls, broken limbs, rashes, anything and everything she could possibly relate. UFO sightings for the past year. UNIT movements in the area. Dates that they had been moving the bodies from the Hub. Traffic reports from the local roads. Sightings of 'fan club' members in the bay. Power cut records. Water flow disruption due to burst pipes. She even threw in the days the bin men came as an afterthought, then expanded the search area from Cardiff to the entire south of Wales.  
  
With a smile, she added in a few more silly things as they occurred to her and set the parameters of the search. She could do the search she really wanted, checking on the coma reports against other things, but she would hide the needle in a haystack of results. The server could pull off all that data in just a few minutes and she could download it back off the system again to analyse at her leisure. The individual machines were powerful enough to handle the graphic results of the search and the touch display screen in the conference room would help her manipulate it how she needed. Remove the labels from the data, simply look at the patterns, and then see what was causing them. Simple.  
  
Lois queued up the search command but didn't run it just yet. Instead she stood, grabbing her phone and putting the final piece of her plan into place. “Hi, it's Lois from International Exports... Hiya, yeah I'd like to order in. Oh you would not believe the contract we're working on, our shippers in India have let us down again and it's like the end of the world in here! Yep, the usual will be fine. Thirty minutes? Perfect. Just send me the bill as usual, you're a star. Thanks!”  
  
Hanging up the phone, Lois chuckled to herself. She may not be an evil genius, but she could still have some good plans.  
  
And with any luck, she could buy herself the time she needed to work this out. Because, after all, even spies needed to eat...  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Big Ears came out of the hospital and hurried back to the car, his face dark as he swung into the driver's seat again. Noddy looked up and stretched out in the seat lazily. “What's the problem? Did you see her?”  
  
“Nope. She's gone.”  
  
“Dead?”  
  
“Taken to some private hospital.” Big Ears slammed his hands against his thighs and clenched his fists, digging into his legs. “What the hell is going on here?”  
  
“Better ring it in,” Noddy said quickly, grabbing his phone. “Although I'm sure they're all over it already.”  
  
“You have a lot of faith in other people kiddo.” Taking the phone off Noddy, he smiled grimly as Noddy shrugged.  
  
“You don't have enough.” Reaching out, Noddy grabbed his brother's arm. “I know we've had to keep to ourselves in the past but it's been... I like being part of a bigger team again, not just us. Johnson and the others have been really cool to me, accepting me on faith and half trained just because I'm your brother, and not been afraid to take a chance on me. And now... Torchwood's been good to us.”  
  
“Yeah, and Torchwood has a spy,” Big Ears reminded him with an eye roll.  
  
“Fair enough, but Ianto and John and Lois and Gwen, I think we can trust them. I just... I'm tired of always being careful and hiding.” Noddy let go and sat back in the chair. “I'd just like to hear my real name occasionally. You know?”  
  
“I know. Look, let's just get through this mission, find the spy, and then... We'll think about it, alright?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Don't...” Big Ears reached out and ruffled his brother's hair lightly. “Look, I promise, we get through this crisis then we can decide how we want to handle this next, and if that means telling everyone your name or about us, if that's what you really want then... Then we'll do it. Okay? Come on, we're alright aren't we Noddy?”  
  
“We're alone, don't call me that.”  
  
Pulling his brother into an impromptu head lock, Big Ears kissed the top of his head, messing up his hair. “Spammy Sammy, you are an idiot you know that?”  
  
“Knock it off,” came the mumbled reply as Noddy, Sam, managed to push his brother off him again. “Hate it when you call me that.”  
  
“That's a brother's prerogative.” With one last flick at his hair, Big Ears pulled away. “Come on Sam, we've got work to do.”  
  
“Make the damn call then, let's get this over with.” Noddy flipped down the sun visor and tried to rescue his hair from his brother's attack. “And thanks.”  
  
“Anytime.”  
  
**************************************** **********  
  
Lois listened to the sounds of the whole team tucking into the takeaways, a few healthy salads and wraps combining with the pizza to make a veritable feast and proving popular enough to draw everyone out of their own little worlds for a bit.  
  
Which left her free to make her move.  
  
Slipping back into her office, Lois hastily ran the search, sending the results to a single file and protecting it on her personal drive as best she could. She was under no illusions that she could keep a determined hacker out of her files, but Ianto had shown her a gatekeeper program that would at least watch over it for her and let her know if anyone was trying to get in. It would have to do.  
  
It would still take five minutes to finish running, so she locked her display and flicked the catch on her office door as she slipped out again, making it lock behind her. Rejoining the others, she tried to look relaxed as she chatted and watched the clock, waiting for the search to be done, but couldn't help thinking it must be written all over her face. It was just as well she had already been ruled out as a spy, or she would definitely be a suspect after this.  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Lois slipped into the conference room and locked the door behind her, slipping her heels off as she hurried across the room. For some reason she always thought better standing up, and she didn't want them getting in the way. The huge touch screen that went along the side of the wall was just showing the blue swirls of the Torchwood servers, looking for all the world like a weird screen saver, but she knew just a touch would bring it to life for her.  
  
First, she drew the blinds over the windows, even knowing that the glass was protected so no one could see in. For once, she needed the slight edge that being deprived of the skyline would give her. No distractions. Content, she jogged over to the screen and tapped on the glass, the system whirring into life before she placed her thumb on a small panel on the right of the screen, signing herself in. A few passwords later and she was in her protected files on her own little piece of the server.  
  
The file was there, a complete mish mash of figures and data combined into one complete jumble. It would take a normal machine ages to sort it out again, but the Torchwood servers were most definitely no normal machine.  
  
A sudden flurry of lines and dots and pie charts and pictures flashed across the screen far too fast for her to keep up, the computer looking through it all, trying to fathom the best way to present it for its merely human colleague. A few minutes later, a simple line graph began to form on the screen, a time line of the past year's dates across the x axis and a blur of numbers on the y. The computer seemed to be trying to decide how to quantify some of the data and she watched as a message flashed across the screen.  
  
“No, quantity isn't that important, I need the pattern. Stick to positive results,” she muttered to herself as she played with the problem results, simplifying things down as best she could. “Okay, that looks a little better...” Content with the axes, she pressed a button to display the results and winced as the screen was covered in line upon line of data, flashing and criss-crossing in a weird rainbow of colour and patterns and making-  
  
A mess.   
  
She could print it off and flog it to Tate Modern, but as a useful piece of analysis it was no good. Sighing, Lois grabbed a touch pad, similar to a souped up iPad, from behind the screen, and sat down on the conference table facing the screen. Pulling her legs up under herself, she settled down as best she could and used a small stylus to trace over the screen, grabbing lines and moving them out the way or hiding them from view. Selecting the line representing the incidence of coma patients in South Wales, she made it bigger, the line standing out starkly on the screen.   
  
Squinting a little, Lois frowned as she looked at it. It was too flat, too constant; she had been looking at the figures all afternoon and there was definitely more of a difference than that. Stretching out the time line, she focused on one month at a time instead of the whole year. There was a pattern of some sort there, definite jumps of activity, then nothing for a few days or a week. But, there was nothing at the very beginning of the year.  
  
The comas started, just a couple at first, only a few months ago. She was looking too far back by focusing on the whole year. Moving the graph along to focus only on the past six months, Lois winced as she saw the jagged rise in the number of coma patients. It was only one or two at a time, but enough to stand out. In the past four months, a couple of dozen people had been admitted to hospital.  
  
Lois pulled up the raw data again, wondering how they could have missed this, then frowned as she saw the answer. “Oh, damn...”  
  
They had always focused on Cardiff, the rift dictating that most of Torchwood's work would be found in that area, but she could now see there were incidences of unexplained comas right across South Wales. The Cardiff comas were simply the first time it had been far enough East for them to notice.  
  
“That can't be good.” Flicking the display back to the graph, she sighed as she set to work, picking out a line at a time at random and comparing it to the coma reports and seeing if there was any sort of match. The servers were almost intelligent enough to do it for her, but there was sometimes something more instinctive about it. Some lines almost looked like a match but she just felt like it wasn't right.   
  
A line at a time was removed from the graph, Lois paying no attention to what they represented, removing the key and blinding herself to any preconceptions and focusing strictly on the shapes. She didn't want to risk eliminating something just because it didn't seem likely to her; likewise she didn't want to try and make something fit when it didn't, just because she thought it might be connected.  
  
It took her maybe ten minutes to eliminate most of the lines, a few stragglers remaining on the screen by the end, some of which only vaguely matched the coma figures. Stretching her neck out, Lois closed her eyes and took a deep breath before getting the computer to redisplay the remaining data, adding back in any quantities it could.  
  
The flickering as it processed the request hurt her eyes and she kept them closed, until the light peeking through her eyelids settled down again, then opened them slowly.  
  
The lines were subtly different, the quantities making some distort away from a match, but bringing others closer. Eliminating a few more, Lois frowned and slipped back down off the table, moving closer to the screen. There, there was something...  
  
A line flickered up and down at the same sort of pace as the coma reports, the match not quite right – sometimes this line had a result where there was no coma – but every time a coma was reported this data was positive. It was the best she had so far.  
  
Focusing on those two lines, Lois pulled back the graph for the whole year again, frowning as the mysterious data showed definite surges during the beginning of the year before the comas started. But it settled down, resolving into just a few spikes at roughly the same time the comas started. It was a match,  
  
Double checking, Lois was content she had identified a possible correlation and smiled to herself as she reopened the key to the graph, ready to see what the mysterious data line represented, what could possibly be connected to the mysterious comas-  
  
“Oh, no...”   
  
  
**************************************** ***********  
  
Jack grinned as the Land Rover pulled up outside the house, the sky darkening rapidly around them with the smell of rain in the air. Dusk, rain, maybe even a storm, perfect weather for exploring a haunted house. He almost jogged round to the back for his gear, accepting both the non lethal gun they used in practice and a more conventional weapon from Ben, as Bill shrugged on a backpack with more equipment.   
  
Holstering the lethal weapon under his coat, Jack slid his hands over the other gun, reacquainting himself with it. He glanced up as he heard footsteps, Big Ears and Noddy appearing from inside the porch of the house and giving quick waves. He couldn't help noticing they looked uneasy, almost as though they were relieved to see them.   
  
Putting his knock out gun away too, Jack waved back and smiled easily as he moved to meet them, shifting away from the vehicle. He was unable to resist letting his gaze linger on the younger man, the skinny jeans and jacket such a welcome change from the normal black uniform they wore. Actually, they both looked good and he couldn't help running his eyes up Noddy then back down Big Ears, enjoying the view.  
  
“Evening boys,” Jack called out, “looks like a great night for a ghost hunt.”  
  
Jack didn't miss the glare Big Ears shot him, a look that suggested most strongly that he should keep his eyes to himself or risk losing them. Pushing past, Big Ears headed straight for Bill and Ben, slipping into a low voice and bringing them up to date with everything. Jack only half listened, not surprised that the girl had gone missing too, and instead focused on working his wrist strap, trying to scan the area for any residual rift activity or alien tech.  
  
“What's that?”   
  
Jack looked up as Noddy drifted closer, drawn to the technology, and couldn't help grinning at the youthful curiosity. The young man must have only been in his early twenties at the very most, possibly not even out of his teens, and there was something about him that wasn't as drilled or polished into uniformity as the others. Twisting his wrist round so Noddy could see, Jack let himself slide a little closer, mostly so that Noddy could see properly but it was also kind of nice to move closer to someone and not have them instantly pull away again.  
  
“It's my vortex manipulator. Well, it used to work on the time vortex but it got broken – long, unbelievably long story – and now it's more a general computer, interface, scanner and...” Jack hesitated, not sure how to describe it. “It's basically advanced technology, 51st century, and right now I'm using it to scan for rift energy and any other future technology that might be in the area. At least I'm trying to,” he added, wiggling his fingertip over a stubborn control, “it's being a little stubborn. Not been the same since I got blown up.”  
  
“You what?” Noddy exclaimed. “You mean, since it got blown up.”  
  
“No,” Jack said slowly, staring at the young man in confusion. “ _I_  got blown up. By Johnson. You didn't know this?”  
  
Noddy shook his head slowly, then stopped, a look of understanding coming over his face. “Oh, you mean back when all this started? I wasn't with the team then, I joined later.”  
  
“Really, now that's interesting.” Jack was about to pursue it when a signal changed on his strap and he grinned. “Ah, there we go, it's working now. As I was saying, it's future technology and hopefully I can use it to check this place out and make sure there's nothing going on here.”  
  
“So, it's like Captain Hart's one?” Noddy shrugged as he looked at it more closely again. “Though maybe a little bigger.”  
  
“Why thank you,” Jack replied with a wicked grin and caught what might almost have been a blush on Noddy's cheeks. By the Goddesses, he was suddenly really glad Cassie wasn't around; he should most definitely not be thinking about the boy, not wondering what he would look like with a deeper flush, maybe his eyes a little wider-  
  
“You ready to go?” Big Ears interrupted, making Noddy jump and throw Jack a guilty look. Nodding, he shrugged out of his civilian jacket and into his uniform jacket that Big Ears was holding out for him. “Captain,” Big Ears said with the smallest sneer, almost pushing Noddy away from Jack in his haste to move them along, and earning him an exasperated look from Noddy.  
  
As they moved away, Jack watched them go, the pair half talking and half whispering to each other in some sort of argument and, judging by the looks Big Ears was shooting him, Jack could guess he was the cause. Turning back to Bill and Ben, Jack shrugged and tried to look innocent.  
  
“Okay, so what's the story with those two then, they married or something?”  
  
Bill looked at Ben, a look that Jack would have to describe as mischievous passing between them before they looked at him again, impassive and stony faced.   
  
“That's classified, sir,” Bill said smoothly, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
“Strictly need to know basis,” Ben added, mirroring his partner's gesture with the smallest smile.  
  
“Of course,” Jack said quietly, glancing at the other two again as they finished dressing and arming themselves. “Pity.”  
  
“Yes sir,” Ben said smoothly, Jack's head swinging back and trying to catch if that was sarcasm or agreement. Ben was unreadable and Jack couldn't help chuckling to himself as he returned his attention to his wrist strap, ignoring the crunch of gravel as the rest of the team finally arrived, car doors and footsteps filling the still air. Enough fun, time for business.  
  
As he spotted the familiar red of John's jacket, Jack sighed to himself. Well, as much business as they could ever manage with him here anyway.  
  
*************************************  
  
Lois slipped back out from the conference room, trying hard to keep her face blank as she looked around the technicians, the last remnants of the food vanishing fast and some people missing already. She couldn't see Lila or Dave, the pair of them having presumably returned to their room, but Tim was almost holding court among some of the newer technicians, his laugh infectious. He caught her eye as she came out and nodded to her, a small smile on his lips, but his eyes looked worried, a question in them. Shaking her head just a little, she smiled back and he turned away again, continuing his conversation.  
  
Moving through the room, she took a mental role call, trying to see if anyone from the list of suspects was missing. She couldn't see Debs, or Jasmine, Richard was missing too-  
  
A beep from her waist made her look down, frowning as she realised her phone was beeping, and pulled it off her hip, looking at the screen. It was just a message, an automated one, but it made her eyes widen. It was the gatekeeper program; someone was trying to access her file. Lois looked up again, all pretence at subtlety gone this time as she got out her notebook and hastily wrote down the names of everyone in the room, ruling out those she could see were not doing anything with the computers. Most of the team was still there, only a few people were missing-  
  
Complete, she put her pad away and quickly headed back to her office, unlocking the door and letting herself in before locking it behind her again. Someone here had seen her, someone had known she was doing something, why else would they try to access her files? The spy was here, right now, in the office with her-  
  
Pulling up the file, Lois bypassed her own passwords quickly and deleted the file, watching and barely breathing as it began to fade away, taken by the servers and purged as best it could be. She wasn't naïve enough to think anything on the system was ever truly gone forever, but it was a start.  
  
She had the information in her head. That was the safest place of all. But just in case, she pulled out her notebook again and hastily scribbled a note, her shorthand filing the lines in an unintelligible mess, switching from one form of shorthand to another halfway through to confuse anyone who didn't know both. It was just a precaution, a note that only Ianto could read easily in case she couldn't talk to him alone, but she tore it off the pad and slipped it into her pocket with a thumping heart.  
  
Lois just hoped whoever the spy was, they at least had the good grace to be having as much of a stressful time over this as she was.   
  
**************************************** *****************  
  
Jack grinned to himself as the door swung open and Bill and Ben charged in first, their faces turned away from him and the back of their heads oddly alike, but their forms were becoming more and more familiar to Jack now, even from this angle. Noddy and Big Ears were next, easily identifiable by their longer hair and civilian trousers, Noddy's low cut and skinny jeans betraying a slender flash of white skin under the edge of his jacket. Jack paired up with John and headed in next, their more colourful outfits breaking up the mass of black around them. Johnson had offered them spare jackets but in a half hearted way; she already knew them too well. Their clothing was as much a part of them as their own limbs, and something they only parted with voluntarily.  
  
Or with the aid of a big bomb, Jack reminded himself as he took in the woman entering the house behind him, all too aware of her gun pointing at his back as though he was a hostage rather than one of her team.  
  
Hugh and Pugh brought up the rear of their group, the rest staying behind in Cardiff with Cassie. Big Ears and Noddy had made sure the electricity was hooked up and Jack looked up as the lights came on, flooding the empty hallway with harsh light. The place was quiet, deserted now, all the party goers gone and the house feeling peaceful.   
  
It was strange, it felt perfectly normal, like a regular house that had simply been empty for a while. He had half expected to feel some sense of dread, or maybe the presence again, but if anything he found himself feeling as though he expected the owners to come out of one of the rooms and wonder what they were doing there.  
  
Without acknowledging John, Jack focused on his wrist strap, checking the area for anything unusual and ignored his former partner doing the same. In spite of this they moved in unison, mirroring each others movements as they scanned opposite sides of the house, sweeping their gaze from floor to ceiling as their fingertips moved over the controls.  
  
Jack had only ever been able to teach his team the most basic commands on the wrist strap, the technology just not something they could intuitively handle. Tosh had been the most capable, but even she had found it just too hard to understand. The interface was a combination of touch and movement and pressure and even thought at times, the technology something that Jack had grown up with and understood as easily as a teenager with the latest mobile phone.   
  
He had tried very hard not to think about the fact that he would have to wait another three thousand years to see such technology again.  
  
A soft beep from John's strap made Jack look round, but a small shake of the other Captain's head ruled it out as a false alarm. Jack couldn't help looking at John's strap, fully functional and powerful, and feeling a little touch of envy. If he had had that, if he had had a fully functional teleporter, he could have saved so many people. He could have saved Owen – the second time at any rate – they could have escaped the prison without any help, they might never have...  
  
No, it was over. That was in the past.  
  
 _But John's strap could travel to the past_ , a little voice in Jack's head whispered to him, soft in his ear.  _You could take the whole year back, find a way to save Stephen, then you wouldn't have had to leave and you could have stayed with Ianto and Gwen and you could have stopped John from-_  
  
It was Jack's strap that beeped this time and he frowned. “Possible alien tech, first floor.”  
  
Johnson nodded to her team. “Let's move.”  
  
**************************************** ***************************  
  
Ianto glanced around the office as he came in, frowning slightly at the pizza boxes. He tried not to roll his eyes as some of the technicians jumped up and quickly began cleaning away the mess, or scurrying back to their workstations. Sometimes being the boss was a pain.  
  
Lois was not in the main office and Ianto headed towards his own, only to find Tim slipping into his path, his eyes full of anxiety. “Sir, Lois is in her office if you need her.”  
  
There was something the kid wasn't saying, maybe he didn't want to say in front of the others, but Ianto nodded and changed direction to Lois' door. Turning the handle as he knocked, he was surprised when it didn't open; usually she kept her door unlocked and disliked having it even fully closed. Considering her time in prison, he couldn't blame her, but the lock made him uneasy and he stepped back as it opened and she appeared.  
  
“Ianto! I mean, you're back sir, I was just-”  
  
“Oh, Lois?” They looked up as Annabelle hurried over, a piece of paper in her hands. “Glad I caught you, we've had the results of the blood tests on your Michael Brown back. Everything is normal, nothing out of the ordinary in his system.”  
  
“Nothing?” Lois asked sharply, almost snatching the paper from the surprised woman's fingers.  
  
“N-No, nothing at all. Why, we're you expecting something?”  
  
Ianto looked at Lois carefully, then reached out and took the paper from her, the image from the video fresh in his mind. Michael had taken drugs, which were showing up in his system at the hospital, but now his blood test was mysteriously clean. Which either meant they had made a mistake with the blood test or-  
  
Or there was something about Michael's blood that their spy hadn't wanted to see and their results had been tampered with. “Thank you Annabelle, no, it was just a loose end we were tying up. Looks like it was nothing for us after all. That's good, isn't it Lois?”  
  
“Huh? Oh, yes,” Lois agreed quickly, forcing a smile back onto her face. “Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”  
  
“Uh, no problem Lois. Sir.” Annabelle quickly hurried off and Ianto looked at Lois oddly, trying to read her face. There was something more...  
  
“Lois, my office-”  
  
“Sir!” Richard bounded over, a phone to his ear. “There's a video call coming in from Johnson's team, do you want it in your office or the conference room?”  
  
Sighing, Ianto pointed to the conference room and nodded quickly. “Conference, I'll be there in a moment, Lois, what's-”  
  
As yet another technician approached, Lois shook her head just a fraction and pushed a piece of paper into his hand instead. “Just that list you wanted sir, I'll go get the call started for you. I'll see you in there.”  
  
Nodding, Ianto turned to Jasmine, who was waiting patiently, and forced a smile onto his face as he opened up the sheet, only half listening as he scanned the lines of squiggles and notes.  
  
“Sir, I know this might not be the best time, but I've been working with the blobs and they've been a bit out of sorts lately, so I wanted to check their past history, chemical levels, temperature and so on, and I just want-”  
  
Ianto cut her off with a wave as he read further down the page, his eyes widening. “Um, Jasmine, sorry, bad time, there's a call coming in, if it's access to the Blob's records you need just ask Annabelle, she can sort you out, I've got to go.”  
  
“Oh, thank you sir, but no, that's not-”  
  
Ianto didn't hear the rest as he hurried to the conference room and pulled the door shut after himself, locking it quickly . He headed towards Lois as she fiddled with the screen, bringing up the call and camera feeds from the team. Johnson, Big Ears, Bill and Hugh were all wearing small cameras by their right ears, sending the feed straight back through, but the sound was missing as Lois worked to call up the audio from the entire team.  
  
“Lois,” Ianto said, holding out the note, “are you serious about this?”  
  
Nodding, she shifted on the spot nervously. “I checked everything I could think of, this was the closest correlation and there is a definite match. Whatever this thing is that's causing the comas, it started just a few months ago, and it almost exactly matches-”  
  
“The blackouts,” Ianto finished for her, sighing as he put the paper down on the table. “Are the blackouts causing the comas, or is something taking advantage of them to attack?”  
  
“It's definitely linked to our spy sir,” Lois added, “I double checked the dates the regular blackouts started, not the random ones because there were no comas before then, and they started about a month after the first set of bodies were stolen. I don't know why _they're_  linked, but I think maybe whoever took the bodies somehow knows what's going on with the comas, and is maybe using the blackouts to cause them?”  
  
“I don't know,” Ianto admitted, his attention drawn to the screen as Jack appeared in the shot from Johnson's lens, John visible in the background behind him. They were all saying something and Ianto shook his head quickly. “We need to focus on the team right now, but good work Lois, I don't know what it means quite yet but I'm sure we'll work it out.”  
  
“I also managed to rule out a few more suspects, we're down to just a few people who might be behind this now. I can't vouch for Lila, Dave, Debs, Richard or Annabelle yet, but everyone else has been crossed off already or was in the main room when my file was being hacked so can't have been doing it. And it was on the internal only server, so must have been done from inside the building.”  
  
“What about the blood sample, who could have tampered with it?”  
  
“Assuming it really was his when the hospital gave it to us? Me, Tim, James, one of the technicians, he did the testing, Annabelle told us the results, she could have been lying. Oh and Debs, she was giving James a hand-”  
  
“She an archaeologist.”  
  
“She's a bored archaeologist,” Lois said with a shrug. “It's just running the machines, there isn't much skill involved, the computer does most of the work... “ She trailed off and looked pale. “I suppose someone could have hacked the computer results of the test, Dave and Lila are the obvious candidates, but some of the others know a few tricks too.” Checking her list of possible suspects again, she shook her head. “No, everyone who might have messed with the blood test is already on the list or ruled out. Including me,” she said with a small smile.  
  
“Damn. Thanks Lois, I mean it, this is-” Ianto shook his head as Jack appeared full screen on Johnson's camera, his face concerned as he stared at his strap. “Later. Can you get the sound up?” Nodding, Lois took a deep breath and returned her attention to the screen, the sound coming up at last as Jack spoke.  
  
 _”Not sure, it's very faint, might just be a natural occurrence, this form of radiation has been known to occur on Earth sometimes...”_  
  
**************************************** *********  
  
Richard looked up as Lila and Dave emerged from their little room back into the main office, stretching and arguing amongst themselves as they did so. “Hey, Annabelle,” Lila called out, the pair coming over to the central set of desks. “What's going on, are we getting a video call? I was in the middle of some maintenance checks and just got locked out.”  
  
“Oh, yes, sorry,” Annabelle confirmed, glancing back at Richard. “Richard took it originally, Ianto and Lois are on some call in the conference room.”  
  
“It was Johnson's team,” Richard said, coming closer and granting them with a small smile, not wasting his charm on Lila. Lowering his voice conspiratorially he looked around as Debs came to join them, putting on his most impressive spooky whisper as he grinned more openly at her. “They're at that haunted house again.”  
  
“That's weird,” Lila said with a frown, folding her arms as she leaned against the desk, “why would they need to go back there?”  
  
“The girl who got sick at that party's in a coma, maybe they're looking for some alien coma thing?” Dave suggested, stopping as everyone turned and stared at him. “What, what did I say?”  
  
“What girl in what coma?” Annabelle asked, confusion all over her face.  
  
“You guys don't know?”  
  
“Don't know what?” Richard asked.  
  
“Oh man, it's all over the conspiracy forums, that ghost house, there was a rave last night and this girl got sick, talking in her sleep and so on and acting all weird. Some of them reckon she was possessed as she had this fit thing then got rushed to hospital. The ghost hunters are going crazy, saying they're gonna go back at the weekend for another hunt. I'm tempted to try and go myself this time!”  
  
“So,” Lila said slowly, staring at him oddly. “They've gone back to the house where this girl got ill, and are there right now?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dave confirmed, shrugging. “Why, that important?” He watched, confused as the other three shook their heads slightly, though whether in despair at him or dismissal he wasn't sure. “What?” As he watched, the women moved off, Lila back to their office, Annabelle and Debs heading towards the bathroom and kitchen. Richard tapped a cigarette out of a packet and sighed.  
  
“It's probably nothing, but you know what this lot are like about withholding gossip. It's not like we actually get told anything anyway, so they think we have to stick together.” Offering a cigarette, he nodded as Dave waved him off. “Suit yourself, I'm going out for a smoke whilst the bosses are occupied. See you in a bit.”  
  
Dave tried to shake off the prickly feeling that he had done something wrong. To cheer himself up, he headed over to Jasmine's table to play with the blobs for a bit, chatting to the young woman as he helped her wrangle one of them onto a strange set of scales. He didn't pretend to understand half of the equipment in here, but he was always happy to have a short break from his screen every now and then, and he loved playing with the blobs. They reminded him of those goo toys he had had as a kid and he always had the urge to spread them out over a newspaper like silly putty, to see if they picked up the print.  
  
Playing with the blobs was soothing, and normally a lot of fun. Unfortunately, holding a semi viscous blob over a set of scales, trying to persuade it to let go was really not the best time for every pager, phone and text message chime in the room to go off simultaneously. As he jumped, Dave winced as he reflexively raised his hands, the blob using the momentum to jump-  
  
Dave closed his eyes as the blob ran slowly down his neck, the sensation not as cold as he had thought it might be, but still one he did not really enjoy. “I really hope that was important,” he muttered, vaguely aware of an increased level of chatter around him, as he opened his eyes and fumbled his own phone from his pocket. “What the-” Reading it quickly, he looked round the room as the technicians all seemed to freeze, instinctively needing someone to take charge. Dave suddenly realised that they were all looking at-  
  
Him. He was the most senior person in the room. They needed  _him_  to tell them what to do.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he looked round the room at the workstations and mess and shook his head quickly. “You read it people, rolling blackout will hit in less than two minutes, get a move on, and get everything shut down or transferred over to the protected power supply.” He frowned as nobody moved. “Now!”  
  
Ignoring them, and the blob starting to wriggle around inside his shirt, he bolted for his own office and the computers as everyone swung into action, yelling instructions to each other and fiddling with plug sockets and grabbing torches. Barging into the office, he found Lila sitting calmly at her desk even as her fingers moved frantically over her keys, her own computers always hard-wired into the protected power anyway.  
  
“You heard?”  
  
“Uh huh,” she nodded, never glancing up from her screen. “I'm re-routing the call onto the protected systems and trying to make sure it doesn't drop when the power goes. The systems are already on emergency protocols, everything is auto saving and taking a restore point just in case, I'm just trying to move as many essentials as possible whilst we still can.” Taking a shaky breath, she shook her head slightly. “I normally do this in fifteen minutes, not two. We're gonna lose some data, I don't know how much I can save.”  
  
“Well, consider it a good test of your skills,” Dave muttered as he saved and shut down every link he could to avoid anything interfering with his sites. It was only a small risk, but the servers also masked his true location and identity from the networking sites, and he didn't want to still be logged on when that mask was ripped away. “Fuck, I'm getting too old for this shit.”  
  
“You and me both, babe,” Lila muttered as she glanced at a timer on her screen. “Fifteen seconds.”  
  
“See you on the dark side.”  
  
  
**************************************** ************  
  
Ianto threw his phone down onto the table and grabbed the power plugs for the screen, pulling them out from the wall and plugging them into the red socket as fast as he could. He just hoped they could pull enough power from the protected supply to keep things going long enough to shut them down. He could hear shouts and even a squeal from the main office, and hoped that they were coping okay.  
  
“Lois, go help them, get the torches and get everything that can be turned off, off!”  
  
“On it,” she answered, already halfway to the door.  
  
On the screen, Ianto watched as the power reconnected, the images flickering back to life, but dimmer than before, flaring back into focus slowly. Jack and John were looking around, as though trying to find something, but the sound was a bit patchy.  
  
 _”Hear that? - sounds – pager? Mobile?”_  
  
Turning on the microphone, Ianto leaned close to it and tried to refrain from shouting. “Johnson, it's Ianto, there's a blackout coming, repeat, blackout coming, the blackout is connected to the comas, you need to-”  
  
With a slight flare, the screen went black as the lights in the room blinked out, plunging him into darkness.   
  
Blackout.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Even the bravest men are frightened by sudden terrors.”  
> Publius Cornelius Tacitus

Johnson swore as the room went dark, grabbing a torch from her belt and flicking it on. Holding the torch under her gun, she used it to aim as she swept around the bare bedroom. “Assume defensive positions, Captains in the centre.”  
  
“We don't need protecting,” she heard a voice grumble behind her.  
  
“You also don't have torches, are supposed to be keeping an eye on your straps, and even if you do draw a weapon I do not want you aiming anywhere but you own feet until you can see what the hell you're doing,” she pointed out waspishly, dropping to her knees as a circle of torch beams shone out around the room. It was dark outside, the sound of rain starting to tap at the windows as she listened hard to the house. It was still the same house, just darker, so why did she feel...  
  
Odd.  
  
“Ianto, this is Johnson, do you read me?” The line was quiet, not quite dead; she could still hear a soft hum of it in her ear, but if the office had lost power the call may have been dropped. “Jones, come in please.”  
  
“Want me to try his mobile? If I can get a bloody signal anyway,” a voice she recognised as John's said in the dark.  
  
“Silent.” Lowering her gun, she holstered it quickly, pulling her earpiece and camera out and checking it quickly in the torchlight before slipping her earpiece back into place. “Call is still active.” Keeping the camera in her hand, she looked into it. “Ianto, can you hear me? If you can see this or hear me, we've lost audio and power. We're going to investigate the house in the dark.”  
  
Pushing her camera back into place, she looked around the team and pulled out her gun again. “Four teams, Big Ears and Noddy, ground floor, Hugh and Pugh, Attic, Bill and Ben, this floor, Captains, you're staying here with me, keep scanning and let me know the second you get anything.”  
  
With a series of nods and yes sirs the teams dispersed, leaving her alone with John and Jack. “I guess this is a bad time to mention I'm afraid of the dark?” John said quietly, a muffled thud making her suspect Jack had followed her first instinct and hit him.   
  
“I said silent.”  
  
As she looked around the dark room, her torch flashing over the bare walls, she felt a prickle at the back of her neck as the hairs stood up on end. She wasn't afraid of the dark.  
  
But, in spite of that, she was surprised to realise something else. She  _was_  afraid. And the worst part was, she had no idea why.  
  
**************************************** ************  
  
Jack frowned as he swung his arm holding the wrist strap around the room, trying to resist the urge to hit the technology. All joking aside, it just wasn't the same as it had once been. When he had first got it, they had said that with care and routine maintenance a Vortex Manipulator could run for a hundred years without breaking.  
  
Of course, he had had his for a  _bit_  longer than that, and the right tools and parts to maintain it had been a bit thin on the ground. Not to mention, his wrist strap had taken almost as much of a battering as his body had in that time, and with less of an ability to fix itself afterwards. It had been in fires, under water, in extreme heat, freezing temperatures, a couple of bad rift jumps, and an unshielded ride through the time vortex.  
  
And that was before it had been in the direct path of a bomb blast. If he was honest, it was a miracle it was still working at all. But even so, it shouldn't be doing this...  
  
“You got something?” John asked, spotting the frown on Jack's face.  
  
“Not sure, I think I'm getting traces of infrasound-”  
  
“What's that?” Johnson asked sharply.  
  
“It's a kind of sound wave, it's a frequency you can't hear, but it's been said to mess with your body, it, uh, it makes you feel uneasy, even scared. It's been suggested as a possible explanation for haunted houses, it can occur naturally, not entirely sure why. Or wind turbines, there was something about them causing problems for people living nearby, and church organs, hell, even weather fronts can cause it-”  
  
“Okay, so it's natural, nothing to worry about.”  
  
“It occurs naturally, but you can also create it. This may be what Big felt, he may have been affected by infrasound,” Jack said with a sigh. “This could be a wild goose chase.”  
  
“No, the girl is missing and she fell ill here, there's some connection to this house, I can feel it,” John said, sounding jumpy.  
  
“You okay?” Jack asked, unused to John displaying any obvious sign of unease.  
  
Shrugging, John tried to laugh it off. “Like you said, this infrasound stuff, makes you uneasy. Aren't you?”  
  
“A little,” Jack admitted.  
  
“Me too,” Johnson whispered, her eyes scanning the room warily. “So, can this infrasound trigger a coma?”  
  
“Not that I know of. It might be nothing.” Taking a slow breath, Jack returned his attention to his strap and frowned. “Seems to be fading a little.”  
  
“Fading? If it's natural, should it do that?”  
  
“Honestly? I don't know.”  
  
John took a step to stand back to back with Jack. “I've got a bad feeling about this and that ain't no soundwave talking.”  
  
Jack looked around the dark room and nodded. “Me too.”  
  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Ianto didn't look up as Lois slipped back into the room, stopping just long enough to place a powerful torch end up on the table so its light hit the pale ceiling and bounced back down into the room. In the much better light than the feeble glow from the keyring torch in his mouth, Ianto could see what he was doing, and shouted a muffled thanks after her as the door closed.   
  
Pulling his keyring from his lips, he clipped it back to his belt hook, and focused again on the video controls. The unit was on reduced power mode but the frames surrounding the video feeds were still there, suggesting the call was active but the image had gone. As he worked, suddenly the screen flared again and the video returned, moving blobs of light from the soldiers' torch beams flickering over the screen in strange patterns as they searched.  
  
 _”-ground floor looks clear-”_  The crackle was faint, but he could make out Big Ears' voice and suddenly saw Noddy in the corner of the frame, the torch beam catching his face for a second. The younger man looked scared, his hand almost shaking as he held his torch.  
  
“Johnson, this is Jones, can you hear me?”  
  
 _”Not clearly... Breaking... repeat?”_  
  
“Johnson, the blackouts are linked to the comas, we have to assume this blackout may be some kind of attack, proceed with extreme caution.” He repeated himself and hoped that it got through, even as he pulled out his mobile and began typing the same message into his phone. He didn't even have a new number for Jack yet, but he had John's and he hit send and hoped that it would get through.  
  
 _”Understood sir.... Blackouts.... Threat. Proceeding... caution.”_  
  
He watched on the screen as her camera swung back to look at John, his mobile in his hand as he nodded, mouthing something Ianto couldn't hear. He could see John raising his phone in the air, as though trying to get a signal, before Ianto was pretty sure he saw him mouth the word fuck and instead place the phone over his wrist strap.  
  
Ianto couldn't tell what he was doing, but suddenly the sound jumped in volume and he winced at a slight feedback hiss from the screen.  _“Can you hear us now sir?”_  
  
“Very loud and clear Johnson, thanks.”  
  
 _”Hart has boosted our signal through his wrist strap and the mobile phone network, but it does mean he can't scan at the moment. Harkness is picking up something, not sure if it's relevant. The others are in pairs investigating the house.”_  
  
Ianto was about to reply when he heard giggling over the line and froze. “Did you hear that?”  
  
The giggling sounded again, high pitched, but not female or a child, definitely a man. A man was laughing somewhere in the house. It wasn't a pleasant sound, it didn't even sound like genuine amusement, more that sort of hysterical sound a person makes when they're not in control, and it set Ianto's teeth on edge.  
  
“Johnson, is that interference on the line?”  
  
 _”No sir, team, report in, immediately.”_  
  
 _“Hugh and Pugh, it's not us.”_  
  
 _“Bill and Ben here, nor us.”_  
  
Ianto listened, waiting for the last two to check in, but instead the giggling began to stop, the sound becoming more desperate, as though the laugher was having trouble breathing or becoming scared.  
  
 _“Noddy, Big Ears, report in, now,”_  Johnson shouted.  _“All units, ground floor, now, find them!”_  
  
Suddenly all the cameras moved at once, a fast blur as the whole team sprang into action, the occasional flash of John's red jacket, or Jack's coat, or the hideous wallpaper, all Ianto could make out as they moved as one. Ianto gripped his own hair tightly as he watched and found himself searching the images from Big Ears' camera for any trace of the pair. Suddenly he saw Noddy-  
  
He was lying on the floor, his arms wrapped around himself as though in pain, and he looked as though he was screaming.  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
Big Ears was in hell, he was sure of it. One minute, he had suddenly been light headed, his head spinning like he had taken something or held his breath for too long. Then the giggling; he had no idea why he had found everything funny, but suddenly the pair of them had been laughing like idiots, their faces twisted into grimaces as they clung onto each other, trying to stay standing. He hadn't even noticed when his camera and ear piece had fallen to the floor, their torches following suit and rolling uselessly to the edges of the room.  
  
Then it had begun.   
  
He could still feel it, as though there was something else in the room with them, something lurking at the edge of his vision. His head was spinning, the dizziness starting to overwhelm him, as they both dropped to their knees. He felt scared, so deeply sad and afraid, and could feel himself shaking, shivering as though suddenly chilled to the core. Holding his brother's hand tight, Noddy could see he felt the same, his face pale and terrified, his eyes so wide in the dim light.  
  
“Sammy...”  
  
Noddy wasn't focusing on him, lost in something only he could see, then suddenly Noddy threw himself backwards away from his brother, crumpling in on himself as though his spine had been crushed. “No!”  
  
“Sam-” Big Ears gasped as the room faded out of view, his vision blurring as he collapsed too, unable to hear anything but his brother's strangled cries, a keening noise that cut straight through his soul, a sound he had hoped to never hear again. Stretching out his arms, he tried to find his brother, groping blindly in the dark-  
  
It was on his chest. Forcing his eyes open, Big Ears couldn't see anything but a blur, but he could feel it, it was on his chest, it was going to eat him, it was going to-  
  
It was going to eat  _Sam_ . The pressure reduced, but suddenly he could feel it, in his head, every single battle, every fight, every death and injury he had witness or caused, he could feel his fists impacting his father's stomach, could see Sam curled up, fragile and so young and bleeding-  
  
Unable to fight, unable to move, opening his mouth as wide as he could, Big Ears just screamed.  
  
**************************************** ****  
  
Jack skidded into the big kitchen at the same time as Johnson, his eyes widening as he took in the two men writhing on the floor, the sounds coming from them so fearful-  
  
It was here, it was killing them, he could feel it, he could feel it nearby, it was-  
  
Funny. Jack laughed, then clamped a hand over his lips, embarrassed at the sound, then giggled again as John joined in, his face panic stricken. Quickly Jack checked his wrist strap and laughed again, trying to clear his voice enough to speak properly.  
  
“Gas, there's something in the air, get out!” Laughing again, he leaned down and grabbed Big Ears' ankle, John grabbing the other one, and began dragging him from the room even as he was vaguely aware of Johnson and the others getting Noddy. Noddy was fighting them, thrashing around and screaming as though the devil himself was after them. Big Ears was weak, not really fighting, but tears streamed down his face as he yelled.  
  
“Sammy!”  
  
Ignoring him, the two Captains collapsed against the door frame for a moment, their laughter too much to let them move much further, but then they could feel it, that same cold dread, and they knew they had to keep moving. With a final surge of effort, they carried on out into the hallway, one final giggle catching them as Ben grabbed Big Ears' arms and helped them, lifting him off the floor and letting them pick up speed towards the front door.  
  
Bursting out into the fresh air, they collapsed on the gravel, barely feeling the prickle of it against their legs and hands as they knelt, gulping in the fresh air and feeling the hysteria and dread start to leech away. A moment later, the others joined them, Noddy stretched out between them and still moaning but not as loudly as before. As they placed him on the ground Big Ears tried to crawl over, struggling to control his body and get a grip on the shifting stones.  
  
Clambering uneasily to his feet, Jack helped the other man up enough to scramble closer, lying down at Noddy's side and grabbing his hand. “Sammy...”  
  
Noddy was still out of it, his eyes closed and his body limp as he lay on the ground, but his eyes continued to dart as though he was dreaming, his voice high and scared. “No, please don't, dad, no!”  
  
“Sammy it's me, he's gone, he's not here, he can't hurt you again it's okay,” Big Ears said softly, grabbing Noddy's body and pulling it to him. “It's okay little brother. You're gonna be okay.” Big Ears cried out as Noddy started convulsing, his body shaking under his brother's grip.  
  
Jack reeled from the realisation that he had got their relationship so totally wrong. They were  _brothers_ . Jack grimaced, trying not to think of his own brother as he looked at the man kneeling on the ground before him. He found his gaze focused on Big's hand, the way his fingers closed tight over his brother's, gripping so tight as though afraid if he let go-  
  
“Jack,” John said hoarsely, dragging his attention back to the others. John coughed, his eyes flicking down to Jack's wrist and he finally took the hint.  
  
Focusing, Jack used his wrist strap to scan the youngest member of the team, his eyes still blurring slightly as he tried to focus. “His brainwave activity is going through the roof, I don't... I'm not a doctor but I think if we can't stop this I think he's going to go into a coma too.” His own brain was far from racing, still slightly groggy from whatever they had been exposed to, but he forced it to work, struggling through. “Light, keep the torches on him, that Michael kid said it helped.”  
  
“Get in the vehicles, now,” Johnson ordered, looking at Bill and Ben. “Anyone who feels clear enough to drive, get those two back to Cardiff as fast as humanly possible, I don't care how many speed limits you break.” Turning back to Jack and John she looked furious, her face dark with the feel of a threatened storm, the shadows on her skin harsh in the torchlight. “Captains, I want to know what the hell just happened in there and why you didn't pick it up earlier, and I want answers even if that means sending you two back in there as my own personal canaries, understood?”  
  
Bill and Ben grabbed Noddy and carried him to the Land Rovers, only stumbling once on the way, as Hugh and Pugh helped Big Ears to his feet and half supported, half carried him along.   
  
“They're brothers,” Jack stated pointlessly, watching them go. “What happened with their father?”  
  
“Fists not fingers,” Johnson said brusquely before gesturing to him to drop it, “and none of your fucking business, understood?”  
  
“Yes ma'am.”  
  
They stood in silence, breathing deeply as they watched the others move around the Land Rovers.  
  
“Jones, did you catch all of that?” Johnson asked at last.  
  
 _”Enough. I'll try and make sure we have someone in place to look after him for when they get back. Call me as soon as you have anything more.”_  
  
“Understood, Johnson out.” Terminating the call, she nodded to John who put his phone away again and switched off the booster from his wrist strap. The three of them fell silent as Hugh and Pugh returned, the Land Rover with the other four in screeching out of the drive in a spray of gravel.  
  
“Bill's driving, he was last in the kitchen and caught Jack's warning about the gas so had covered his mouth, he's okay. Big Ears is in the back with Noddy, they'll look after him,” Pugh said quickly, still breathing hard from the exertion. “All due respect sirs, what the hell was that?”  
  
“That's exactly what we're going to find out. Gas masks, now,” Johnson said with a small smile. “We're going back in.”  
  
  
**************************************** ******  
  
Tish answered the phone with a yawn and leaned against the kitchen door, closing it behind her so Martha wouldn't hear. “No Ianto, she isn't around-”  
  
 _“Tish, please, it's important. Someone... One of the team is down and we need a doctor we can trust. Something is going on at the hospitals and we can't send him there. We need her. Please.”_  
  
“Ianto, she...” Tish glanced at the empty whisky bottle on the side. “She's really not in any fit state to do anything like that. I don't think she would even make the journey at the moment.”  
  
 _“Shit.”_  She could hear Ianto whispering to someone else and a heated argument taking place somewhere in the background.  _“Look, is there anyone you can think of, anyone Martha could trust?”_  
  
She froze, the thought instant and bold in her mind but she wasn't sure. It was such a risk... “Trust is more important than knowledge, right? They don't have to be all, alien hunty and stuff?”  
  
 _“Even St John's Ambulance first aid training and a keen mind would be a help right now, but a qualified doctor would be good, a specialist in comas, or even maybe a shrink I would just about kill for.”_  
  
“No shrinks but there might be someone I know, qualified doctor and all that. Look, I'll see what I can do, if I can get someone what do you want me to do, put them on a train or-”  
  
 _“There might not be enough time to wait for the trains to start running. I don't think I can call in enough favours to get a helicopter without raising too much attention, but Mickey's back in London, he has one of our Land Rovers if you need a car.”_  
  
“Nah, I've got a car, I just might not have a job left after all this time off.”  
  
 _“Tish, I-”_  
  
“I wasn't whinging Ianto, I get it, you wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Look, I'll sort it, even if I have to just go to the hospital and kidnap someone.”  
  
 _“Oh no need to go that far, if it comes to that we have a whole hospital here ourselves. But someone we can trust-”_  
  
“Okay, okay, I'm on it.” She hesitated, lowering her voice a little. “Look, do you want me to borrow her phone and call... Him?” A softly derisive snort came over the line.  
  
 _“I need a_ medical _doctor, not an intergalactic playboy, besides, things are bad enough as it is without him bringing six worlds of trouble our way too.”_  
  
“Good point. Strictly Terrestrial.”  
  
 _“Thanks Tish, I owe you one.”_  
  
“You owe me at least three by my count, and that's before I add in Jack's tally, so if I do get fired you'd better hook me up with some cushy job with no real work and a huge salary instead.”  
  
 _“It's a deal. Call me when you have an arrival time.”_  
  
“I'll let you know.” Hanging up the phone, Tish paused, trying to think of any good way of asking for help, then deciding to just go for it before she changed her mind. Going through the numbers, she found the one she wanted and punched it in, listening to the ringing until finally a groggy voice answered.  
  
 _“What?”_  
  
“It's me. Listen, I really need your help. We have a problem.”  
  
 _“No shit kiddo.”_  A weary sigh came over the line, the voice groggy but alert.  _“You okay? Is everyone okay?”_  
  
“I'm fine, it's nothing like that, we're all okay, it's... It's Torchwood.”  
  
  
**************************************** ***************  
  
Cassie couldn't help screaming when the power went out, the darkness so complete around her. With the hum of the electronics gone, she could hear the creak of the metal warehouse, the sound like something out of her nightmares.  
  
The conversion chamber, the sound of the blade whirring, the feel of it in her neck, against her forehead, the pressure of the metal against her skin, the whisper of the voices in her mind, the order so controlling and appealing, the trickle of her own blood down her skin, tickling along her chest, her clothes slowly soaking it up and growing heavy and damp against her skin as she tried so hard not to move-  
  
“Ma'am, you okay?”  
  
The torchlight broke the spell, Barney appearing in view and reaching for her. He was the shortest of the soldiers and also one of the oldest, his bearing gruff and weather worn, but at the same time there was something so reassuring about him, almost fatherly. As his hand closed around her arm, she choked out a breath, daring to move again, sweet air filling her lungs as her left hand rose to her throat. Her fingertips traced over the healed scars as her other hand gripped him tight, grounding herself with the reality of his presence.  
  
“I'm... I'm fine, I just... What happened?”  
  
“Blackout miss,” Cuthbert called from the doorway, his Scottish accent out of place in the team but businesslike and reassuring. He too was older than most of the team, a career soldier, but one who was in his element serving under others and seeing that their orders were carried out. His eyes had dark shadows under them in the dim light of the torches and he hurried forward, pressing a smaller torch into her hand. The weight of it felt good, the beam of light somehow connecting her to the rest of the world as she nodded gratefully.  
  
“We should get you back to the offices, no telling how long it'll last and we're no use here without power,” Barney said quickly, his hand sliding to rest on her back, comfortably guiding her through the dark room. “Come on ma'am, it's this way, we've got the steps to get down but after that we're right outside and straight to the car, no problem.”  
  
“Thanks,” Cassie muttered, wrapping her arm around his back in return and letting herself be led. Normally she would object to being treated like a wilting maiden, but right now, the nightmare from her past so fresh in her mind and every shadow seeming to contain a Cyberman, she was just too grateful for the support to worry. “I'll be okay.”  
  
“I know you will, miss,” Barney said with a smile, “just humour me for a bit longer anyway, right? Not often I get the chance to be this close to a beautiful woman any more.”  
  
Laughing, she could feel a little more of the tension drift away and nodded. “I think I can manage that.” Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, she took in the shape of the stairs ahead of her. “Just don't let me fall.”  
  
“Never, miss. That's a promise.”  
  
And, somehow, she believed it.  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
The mask was heavy on Jack's face, the straps digging into his skin, and he could feel en edge of claustrophobia creeping in, making him want to rip it off his face. It wasn't like there was anything in that house that could hurt him, not permanently anyway. His breath was loud in his ears, the hiss of it filling his senses in the dark hallway, their torch beams cutting through it and shining the way to the kitchen again. John was focused on his wrist strap, checking the readings as they walked through, but his expression was completely unreadable behind the mask.  
  
“Not picking up any gas yet.”  
  
“Keep checking,” Johnson replied, carrying on into the old kitchen and taking in the mess. The old units had all been ripped out long ago, bare pipes protruding from the wall like stray roots from some metal tree, digging its way into the house. Beer bottles and cans littered an entire corner of the room as though someone had been building a bizarre altar to the Gods of alcohol – which, considering the party of the night before, was actually not such a ridiculous guess.  
  
Jack was looking at his own wrist strap, trying to find any trace of what he'd read before. The air seemed completely clear now, but the house was closed up so it shouldn't have ventilated that fast at all. Moving around the kitchen, he drifted closer to the various closed off pipes and finally found a trickle of gas coming from one of them.  
  
“Got the leak,” he called out, his voice muffled as he waved Johnson over. “But not enough to explain what happened, this is more like a trailing edge of whatever is left in the pipe coming through than an actual flow.”  
  
“I wouldn't have thought this place was still connected up to the mains,” Hugh remarked sourly, his back to the doorway as he took position just inside it, although it wasn't entirely clear if he was protecting them or keeping some invisible enemy from getting out.  
  
“Shouldn't be,” Jack admitted, leaning in close to the pipe and double checking the readings. “This isn't normal domestic gas...”  
  
“What? How can you tell?” Pugh asked, coming in closer and checking out the pipe. “It's standard pipe work, my dad was a builder, that's a regular fitting that's been capped off when the cooker was taken out, nothing odd about that, why would the gas be different?”  
  
“Well, for starters, we didn't smell it; as I'm sure you know, natural gas always has strong smell added to it so you know when there's a leak. Also, I very much doubt British Gas are in the habit of randomly sending bursts of gas along long disused pipes.”  
  
John leaned in beside them, his own wrist strap hanging open as he nodded. “And if this was natural gas, I wouldn't be able to do this,” he added, slipping a lighter out of his pocket and spinning the wheel to light it before the others could even yell. The flame flickered slightly, as though caught in a draught, but it stayed lit and didn't set fire to the whole house.  
  
“Someone else has set this up,” Jack said, “I'm detecting traces of hallucinogenics in the pipe, lingering marks of carbon dioxide, and a healthy dose of nitrous oxide-”  
  
“Laughing gas?” Johnson said quickly. “Well that explains one thing.”  
  
“There's something else in here too, I'm not familiar with it, but from the readings looks like it's definitely got the potential to get you out of your mind,” Jack admitted, taking as many readings as he could.   
  
“I don't get it,” John said, folding his arms across his chest, “why go to all that effort just to make us laugh? And why'd Noddy go all fucked in the head from it?”  
  
“It shouldn't do that on its own,” Jack said, shaking his head. “I can't find anything that would do that to him, it just seems designed to get him, uh, stoned I guess is the best word for it.”  
  
“Maybe it's just a bad trip flashback?” Pugh suggested, standing up again and looking round at Johnson. “Noddy mentioned a few youthful indiscretions, I dunno, maybe this just triggered something?”  
  
“But why do this at all? They couldn't know how it would affect him, could they?” John asked, checking his strap again.  
  
“Maybe it's not the gas itself,” Jack guessed, rising to his feet again and looking round the room. “Maybe the gas triggers something else, acts as a conduit...” He trailed off, his face changing as something occurred to him.  
  
“A conduit?” Johnson asked.  
  
“The rift, the rift in Cardiff, it was once used by a race called the Gelth, gaseous creatures, they slipped through the rift and used gas pipes, natural gas, to travel in our world,” Jack said quickly, trying to remember everything he could about the files. Unfortunately, his own attention had been more focused on the mention of a strangely dressed man and a blonde girl who had been spotted at the scene...  
  
“Gelth,” John said, shrugging. “Not one I've come across but it's a big universe and a fellow can only please so many species in one lifetime.”  
  
“But Jones said the blackout was relevant, linked to the comas.”   
  
“I... I don't know, I don't remember any mention of light levels being important. But I can't remember, it might have been at night.” Jack admitted, shrugging. “I don't know if it fits at all, maybe this is something that travels in the darkness or light hurts it or something like that, could be photosensitive. Maybe it can't survive in our atmosphere and needs this mix of gases to live. Maybe this is just a fart from some really narrow alien living in the gas pipes that happens to knock out humans. It could be nothing at all and I'm just grasping at straws. But someone went to a lot of trouble to gas this room, there has to be a reason and I find it an odd coincidence that it happened just as our guys were in here.”  
  
“There's more gas pipes in this place,” John said, holding his wrist strap out and projecting a wireframe image of the house into the dark room, a network of slender red lines wrapping through the rooms. “Might not just be this room, could be more. Could be this whole house is some weird test centre.”  
  
“Now there's a nice thought,” Johnson said, nodding to John. “Let's check it out.”  
  
**************************************** ********  
  
Lois slipped back into the conference room as Ianto hung up the phone and blew out a long breath before glancing up, his face pale in the dim light.   
  
“Sir, we're about as good as we can be, we lost a couple of minor experiments, but most things are shut down fine or on the protected supply. It's taking a hell of a battering though so we're shutting down everything non essential as quickly as we can. Lila says we lost about an hours experimental data and some tracking info but she's doing what she can.” She paused, as though either expecting him to say something else or just picking up on the fury seeping from him in the darkness. “Are... Are you done with the screen?”  
  
He managed to nod, leaning against the table and not watching as she slipped past him and turned off the screen, unplugging it again before turning to face him, steadfastly pointing her torch anywhere but his face.   
  
“Sir?” She whispered quietly. “Are you... Are you okay Ianto?” Inching closer, she placed a hand uncertainly on his back, feeling the rigidity of his muscles under her fingertips. “Ianto?”  
  
“Noddy's been hurt,” he whispered back, turning to look at her over his shoulder.  
  
“Oh, God...”  
  
“Our spy. I... I don't know, this can't have been an accident, they must have known we were going there.”  
  
Lois wanted to back away, the fury in his eyes contrasting so strongly with the youthfulness of his features as he stared through her, his eyes black pits in the darkness. “Everyone who has been cleared, get finished up with the power issues then get them in here, and lock them in, now. Everyone who is still a suspect, I want them in the Armoury.”  
  
“Ianto-”  
  
“Right now. I don't care what you have to tell them, just get those suspects locked up. Understood?”  
  
“I... Yes. Sir.”  
  
Pulling away from him, Lois all but ran for the door, her torchlight flickering in crazy patterns over the carpet as she hurried out of the room and away from her boss. She didn't know how this was going to turn out or what was going to happen next. She'd read the files that had survived, she'd been into the virtual archives and seen some of the personnel policies regarding Torchwood, the sorts of things that not only exceeded most workers' rights but several very basic human ones as well. She'd heard the rumours.  
  
She'd seen the morgue reports.  
  
And right now, more than anything else in the world, Lois was very very glad that she wasn't on that list of suspects. She just hoped that they found the guilty one before anyone innocent got hurt...  
  
  
**************************************** *********  
  
Dave was bemused as they were hustled into the armoury, the room one he hadn't seen before. His curiosity was peaked by the locked cabinets and drawers, even as the door clicked shut behind them. The two torches they were given were more than enough in the metallic room, the light reflecting easily around the space and making it bright enough for them. It reminded him of a bank safety deposit box vault, like something out of a movie. He was just reaching for the work surface, unable to resist running his fingertips over the smooth surface, when the forgotten blob under his shirt moved again, suddenly reminding him it was there.  
  
“Agh!” Yelling, Dave slid his hands up inside his t-shirt as the girls backed away from him as fast as they could. “You creepy little ball of- Somebody help me get it out!”  
  
“No way,” Debs said simply, pulling herself up to perch on the edge of one of the work surfaces as Annabelle and Lila stood either side of her. “You can keep it in.”  
  
“I'm not- Ugh, don't be weird, one of the blobs went down my shirt.”  
  
Sighing, Richard stepped forward and looked closer at Dave's t shirt before lifting up one edge and spotting the blob spread wide over his stomach. “So that's what it was, I just thought you'd been at the pizza too much.” Placing his hands flat on Dave's hips, Richard slid them together, gently easing the blob into a smaller space until with a flick of his wrist he pulled it clear. Scooping it up into his palms, he waited until it was still again, and Dave had pulled his shirt down, before nodding to him. “Hands.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You brought it in here, you can babysit, hands.”  
  
Holding his hands out, Dave accepted the blob back and let himself slide down to sit on the floor. Stroking a fingertip over the blob, he looked at it closely. It didn't look any the worse for wear for the experience exactly, but it seemed... If he didn't know better he would have said clingy. It felt heavier in his hands, stickier somehow, as if it didn't want to let go of him. “You alright mate?” Dave said quietly, bringing his hands up to his face.  
  
“It's a blob of goo,” Debs said with a sneer, kicking her heels against the cabinets. “It's not sentient, it's just... mood slime.”  
  
“Whose bed did you get out of the wrong side of,” Annabelle shot back, moving away from Debs to sit beside Dave and reach out her hand to stroke the blob too. “You've been a real grouch all day.”  
  
“Scared of the dark?” Richard teased, grabbing one of the torches and holding it under his chin. “Mwahahahaha.”  
  
“Oh fuck off Vampire boy, go sparkle somewhere else,” Debs replied, the nickname making him pout, even though his resemblance to one of the Twilight actors was already the subject of many jokes within the team. The fact that he also used it to increase his pulling power at the weekends, persuading local students he really was Robert Pattinson in town for some filming with the BBC, (and getting a healthy number of naïve young women into his bed), didn't help his case.  
  
Richard put the torch back on the side and sat down on the floor too, folding his arms across his chest and trying not to look as though he was sulking. Which was hard to do, because he was.  
  
“Oh for goodness sake kid,” Lila said with a laugh, thudding down to the floor beside him. “Stop being such a queen about it, or stop pretending you are him when it suits you, you can't exploit it by night and bitch about it by day. I've seen your internet history, you keep checking his hairstyle to make sure yours matches, if you're gonna do the crime you've gotta do the time.”  
  
Wrapping an arm around him, she pulled him into an hug that was half headlock and half embrace, making him squirm under her arm and pull free. “Stop that.” Tidying his hair, he glared at the others as they sniggered at him. “Oh shut up. At least I don't go for stereotypes like Dyke Girl and the King of the Geeks here.”  
  
“Whatever, Twilight Twinkie, least I don't have to pretend to be someone else to get laid,” Lila said, her tone more disinterested than offended, scrambling across the floor to sit beside Dave instead and running her fingertip over the blob before frowning. “Is this thing more...”  
  
“Sticky?” Annabelle suggested.  
  
“Yeah,” Lila agreed, glancing up at Debs. “Shine that torch over here, will you?” Looking at the blob carefully, she frowned. “Dave, what the hell did you do to this thing, it looks... thicker than usual, can't you usually see through these things?”  
  
“It wasn't me,” he said defensively, drawing the blob in close to his chest. “Jasmine was saying they were a bit off today anyway. Maybe they just don't like the dark.”  
  
Annabelle gave him an incredulous look and leaned back against the cabinets again. “Dave, they stay in the office every night in the dark, it isn't that. This one probably just ate a crust of pizza that was stuck down the front of your shirt, you slob.”  
  
Dave frowned and opened his mouth, about to dispute that, when Lila chuckled. “Wouldn't be the first time. You are a mess mate.”  
  
“Whatever,” he muttered back. “Just don't tell Ianto, okay? I reckon we're in enough trouble as it is.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Richard asked, looking worried. “Why would we be in trouble?”  
  
It was Dave's turn to look disdainful as he made a point of looking round the small room. “This is the most secure room in the office. Nothing gets in or out without Ianto or Johnson's say so. So, we're either in here because they think we're a threat or something, or we're in here for our protection.” Bringing the blob up to his mouth again, he pursed his lips and spoke babyishly to it. “Either way, we're in trouble, aren't we? Yes we are.”  
  
“That's ridiculous,” Debs said quickly, her feet stilling as she stared at them. “How could we be a threat?”  
  
“I dunno,” Dave admitted, shifting on the floor. “But it's been odd ever since those new people arrived, that Cassie and the bloke-”  
  
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Lila said absently, still focused on the sticky blob.  
  
“Right, ever since they got here something's been going on, more secret meetings and all that. And Dr Reeve stealing bodies, I mean, come on, it kind of looks like they think someone here is up to something. Maybe it's like a body snatcher thing, maybe we don't even know we're doing it.”  
  
“Could be some sort of alien possession?” Annabelle said cheerfully, her Irish lilt making it sound more like a trip to a theme park than a serious problem. “I heard one of the archive girls say it's happened before, she was talking to Lois about it.”  
  
“Well I'm not possessed,” Richard said, getting to his feet and edging away from the trio around the blob.  
  
“Only by movie vampires,” Lila suggested.  
  
“Bite me.”  
  
“Thought that was your job?”  
  
“Might be the ghosts,” Dave suggested, wriggling on the hard floor yet again in a vain effort to stop his butt going numb.  
  
“What ghosts?” Annabelle said.  
  
“You know what we do have in common,” Dave said slowly, forgetting about ghosts as the thought triggered something else in his mind and he went pale. “You know when I told you all about the girl at the haunted house. What if... What if that was supposed to be a secret? You don't think we've broken some Torchwood confidentiality law?”  
  
“Oh God,” Annabelle moaned quietly, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I've heard rumours that the candidates who wash out of the program get their memories wiped and then dumped on the street somewhere and end up working in Starbucks for the rest of their lives.”  
  
“Starbucks.” Lila said incredulously. “You think  _Starbucks_  is where ex Torchwood personnel go to- What, vegetate?”  
  
“Percolate, surely,” Richard mocked.  
  
“You know what I mean, stop being so smug,” Annabelle snapped back, folding in on herself. “God, Lila, for a lesbian you are crap at dealing with women you know?”  
  
“Just not straight little pillow princesses like you sweetheart-”  
  
“If this is going to end up in some kind of cat fight couldn't you at least wait until the lights come back on so we can all see properly?” Dave cut in quickly, holding his hands with the blob in up between the two women. “Just calm down, you're upsetting the blob.”  
  
“You're the one who was molesting it,” Annabelle muttered, but she shifted back to sit closer to Dave, her finger reaching out to stroke the blob again as though it was a pet. “I don't want to get my memory wiped.”  
  
“You won't,” Lila said firmly, pulling her legs up under her to sit cross legged. “For starters, if it was on the internet it's not exactly top secret. If you've done nothing wrong then you've got nothing to fear, okay? Now, let's just all calm down and chill, they will come back and let us know what's going on when they're ready, and I'm sure it's nothing serious, right?”  
  
She was still believing that right up until the point when Ianto hauled her up off the floor and physically dragged her from the room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Actions lie louder than words.”  
> Carolyn Wells

“This is weird,” John said at last as they checked out the last room on the first floor. “Okay, even if we put aside the fact that they appear to have had a gas fire in every room, even the toilet, some of these pipes are only a few months old.”   
  
“You're kidding,” Pugh said, looking at them, “they look ancient.”   
  
“They are. I mean, I don't mean the pipes are new, I mean they haven't been here that long.” John closed his wrist strap and tugged at the cap on one of the pipes. “Someone's gone to a lot of effort to plumb this house into some sort of gas chamber.”   
  
“To get kids high?”   
  
“No,” Jack said quietly, “maybe that's just a way of weakening them, making them susceptible to the... the whatever it is.”   
  
“Which we don't know,” Johnson said, shaking her head. “Are you picking up any traces of the gas now? Or that sound?”   
  
“None at all,” Jack said. “And that strikes me as one hell of a coincidence, don't you think?”   
  
“An unscheduled power cut, drugs and some sort of coma inducing... Something, all happening at once? I'd say someone knew we were coming.” Johnson said. Glancing at her watch, she nodded to herself. “Okay Captains, you two check over the last of the rooms, see if there's anything else you can learn and if not, lets get the hell out of here, I want to get back to Cardiff asap. Boys, let's go let Ianto know the bad news. Looks like our spy has claimed their first victim.”   
  
**************************************** ****   
  
Cassie was a little out of breath as she made it back up to the office, the stairs making her wish they hadn't gone for the top floor. Once she reached the right floor, the power loss had made the doors automatically lock, but a quick knock later and Ianto opened it from the inside and pulled her into the room. “Ianto, what-”   
  
“We're in trouble Cassie,” Ianto said quickly, glancing round the now empty office.   
  
“Where is everyone?”   
  
“Lois and everyone we've ruled out are locked in the conference room,” Ianto explained, as though locking up his workforce was something he did on a regular basis. “The five remaining suspects are locked in the Armoury. Noddy is in a coma, Big Ears is sick, Bill and Ben are bringing them back to Cardiff, I've got Martha's sister trying to find me a doctor we can actually trust, Johnson, John, Jack and the others are finishing checking out the haunted house where Noddy collapsed, I'm about ready to throttle someone, and I am really, really, out of my depth.”   
  
Taking a deep breath, Cassie leaned against one of the work benches as she watched him start to pace, his hands darting through his hair compulsively. “Barney and Cuthbert brought me back,” she said, “they are downstairs in the car park if we need them, they're standing by and monitoring the police bands in case of any problems from the unexpected blackout.” Taking another deep breath, she pulled herself up to sit on the workbench and steepled her fingers together in her lap, trying to focus and ground herself.    
  
“This is a mess.”   
  
“Your people are all where they need to be, Ianto,” she said softly, her voice level as she worked on keeping calm. “You have lots of pieces of the puzzle. All we need now is to find the spy and get the missing pieces from them.”   
  
“I've got five suspects Cassie,” Ianto shouted, pointing at the locked armoury door on the other side of the office, “and a good dozen more innocent people locked up and probably frightened out of their wits because their boss has gone mad, and you know what Cassie, I think I might be.” Stopping pacing, Ianto shook his head quickly. “I don't know what to do.”   
  
Slipping down off the bench, she crossed the few steps between them and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. “Yes you do. You've got everything you need right here. You've got your suspects, you've got me, and you've got enough anger in you to handle whatever they might throw at you, but enough sanity left to keep it under control. You're going to be fine.”   
  
Hugging her back, Ianto let himself bury his face in her hair and breathe deeply. “I'm glad you're here.”   
  
She laughed against his neck and shook her head quickly. “If it's all the same with you, I'm not. I'd much rather be at home.” She could feel a shiver run through her, strong and sudden, and instead of fading it grew, her teeth almost chattering as she held tight to him.   
  
“Cassie? You okay?”   
  
“Mmmm,” She murmured quickly, fighting to keep her mouth shut. “Just stressed, I just-” Shuddering more, she took a shaky breath and let her legs give way and drop her to the floor, Ianto's grip slowing her fall to a gentle lowering to the floor instead. “I just need to sit,” she whispered quietly, “sorry, it's just, so much emotion-”   
  
“Of course,” Ianto said quickly, letting go of her as she settled and moving back to a discrete distance. She didn't bother explaining; he had already seen her much worse. The same skills and perfect recall that had made her so good at her job could overwhelm her at times, so many people around her hard to cope with.    
  
Their group therapy sessions had not been the best thing in the world for her, the levels of emotion in the group draining her quickly. The work the Cybermen had done to interface with her had left its own mark, her nervous system trying to shut itself down if it became overwhelmed by emotion as a defence mechanism. All she could do was try and control it herself and ride out the storm.   
  
Either that, or she at best passed out, at worst she ended up in hospital for a week.   
  
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and placed her hands flat on her thighs, focusing only on herself and trying to blot out the fear and worry around her. Clicking off her torch, she laid it flat by her side, just in reach. “I just need five minutes.”   
  
“I can wait.”   
  
“Join me?” She asked quietly, extending a hand without looking and feeling his join hers a moment later, a soft shuffling suggesting he was sitting opposite her now.    
  
“What do you need me to do?”   
  
Smiling to herself in spite of the shakes in her body, she gripped his fingers tight and shrugged. “Whatever feels natural. Pray for me, send me happy thoughts, picture golden light, sing Kumbayah, I don't care, just be here with me.”   
  
A gentle squeeze back on her fingers marked his compliance and she focused on herself again. Just five minutes, she just needed time to calm down again.   
  
Then they could begin.   
  
**************************************** ****   
  
It took her ten minutes in the end, the shivers fading until she felt strong enough to open her eyes again, the light from Ianto's torch and the few experiments still running just enough to cast a pale glow over the room. Squeezing Ianto's fingers, she watched as he opened his eyes, his face full of dark hollows and the shadow of his new beard making his cheekbones stand out more than they should.   
  
“Hey,” he whispered quietly, his shoulders slumped, resignation fighting to replace the anger that had been surging through him. “You okay?”   
  
Nodding, she let go of his hands and stumbled to her feet, brushing herself down as she straightened up. “Yeah, thanks.” Sighing, she glanced at the locked door to the armoury. “Let's get this over with, who do you want to start with?”   
  
Brushing his hands against his jeans, Ianto nodded once. “Dave. We checked him out ourselves, he didn't come through the program and we approached him, not the other way around. I can't believe he is involved, we only kept him on the list because we couldn't rule him out.”   
  
“Okay,” Cassie nodded, clicking her torch back on and pointing it at the Armoury. “So, you want to be good cop or bad?”   
  
  
**************************************** *   
  
Dave looked up as the door unlocked, the click making all of them scramble to their feet as quickly as they could. Debs jumped down off the counter as Dave awkwardly stood up, careful of the blob in his hands. Ianto burst in, his mouth open as though to say something, then stopped as he spotted Dave and his cupped hands.   
  
“Is that one of the blobs?”   
  
“Ah, yes, funny story, I was with Jasmine when the-” Ianto cut him off with a wave of his hand and instead simply beckoned Dave to follow him.   
  
“Out, now. Just Dave,” he added as the rest made to follow. As one, they moved back against the edges of the room, uneasy as Dave trudged slowly off to meet his fate.   
  
**************************************** ***********   
  
Ianto watched as Dave shuffled out of the room and sighed, pointing to the Blob's table and the empty jar. “Put it away.” Obeying, Dave stumbled through the dark room and held his hand over the jar but the blob didn't seem to want to let go, clinging to his skin until he practically had to scrape it off his palm. Finally content it was gone, Dave turned back to face them, wincing at the torch being shone into his face by Cassie.   
  
“Um, look, if this is about those websites, I mean, I know they look like porn, but really-”   
  
“Who are you working for Dave?” Ianto asked quietly, keeping back behind the glare of Cassi's torch and making Dave squint to try and see him.   
  
“What? Well, you of course.”   
  
“Have you ever passed information about Torchwood to anyone outside the team?”   
  
Dave swallowed hard, all too aware of Cassie's gaze and the harsh tone of Ianto's voice as he questioned him. “No! I mean, yes, but only the stuff you told me to! It's my job, but if I did something wrong, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, if this is about the coma girl-”   
  
“What coma girl?” Cassie asked softly, her voice soothing and he instantly twisted to face her fully, trying to avoid Ianto's glare as the torch lowered a little.   
  
“The, the, the one at the haunted house, it's all over the internet, I didn't know it was a secret, I just thought it was connected-”   
  
“Connected to what?” Ianto barked out, striding closer to Dave and pushing him back against the work surface.   
  
“Jesus! I, I don't know, the haunted house, Richard said the squaddies were going there and I just said I thought it might be connected-”   
  
“Richard?” Cassie interrupted again, moving forward to and placing a hand on Ianto's shoulder, making him back off. “Richard knew about the team going back to the house?”   
  
“I, I don't know, he took the call, that's all I know, he told us all about the call, and then I told everyone about the girl, and then, then everyone looked at me like I was an idiot, and I hate it when they do that, just because I don't have a degree, or any fancy letters after my name, or am a member of Mensa.” Dave knew he was babbling. He could hear it, it always happened when he was nervous, and it was embarrassing but he just couldn't stop, despite the way it made him want to cringe.   
  
He knew he would be hopeless under torture; his only consolation was that he would probably bore his torturers to death with useless information before he actually got anywhere near betraying anyone else.   
  
“And then they all went off and I went to chat to Jasmine, and she was talking about the blobs, and I was holding one. and then all the pagers went off,” Dave said quickly, taking advantage of Ianto's backing away to gesture. “And I went whoa, and the blob went woo!” he demonstrated, flinging his hands into the air, “and it went down my neck, and then I had to go shut things down and the lights went out and-”   
  
Cassie and Ianto exchanged exasperated looks before Cassie stepped forwards, lowering her torch and resting a hand on Dave's arm, stopping his mad movements before he hurt himself. “Okay, so back up, you didn't know anyone was going back to the house until they were already there?”   
  
“Uh huh,” he nodded quickly, his head bouncing up and down on his neck like a mad jack in the box.   
  
“And immediately after that, you were in here, with Jasmine? You didn't leave the room?”   
  
“Nuh uh,” he stammered out, flinging his arm around to point at Jasmine's desk and almost knocking a blob jar flying. “I was right here, I was, y'know, just chatting, I mean, Jasmine's really cute and she, uh, she doesn't look down on me like some of the others, and I like the Blobs, and she likes the blobs, and I was hoping it might lead somewhere, not in a pervy way, I just mean, maybe coffee, or a drink, I'd like a drink, I like to drink sometimes, beer's good, but not tequila, that makes me ill,” he finally trailed off, falling silent as he leaned against the table.   
  
“Dave?” Ianto asked finally, a weary tone to his voice. “Someone has been spying on us and helping someone outside of Torchwood steal the alien bodies and God knows what else. Are you a spy?”   
  
“What? No! Never, I love my job, when I first got it I was so proud and wanted to tell my mum, but I didn't because it was secret, so I lied and said I was working for the BBC and she was still so proud-”   
  
Ianto leaned forward and put his hand over Dave's mouth, standing close enough to tower over Dave as he shrunk back against the work station. “Dave. A simple yes or no will do.” Waiting until he was sure Dave was ready, Ianto pulled his hand back. “Are you a spy?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Cassie?”   
  
Sighing, Cassie stepped forward, nodding as she regarded Dave. “Everything I know says he's telling the truth.”   
  
“Go check his story with Jasmine, there was no sign of trouble until after the call came in, that's when the blackout started. If that's the window when our spy acted, between the call and the blackout, we need to find out who heard about the call and who was alone. Bring Lois back with you, I need to talk to her again.”   
  
“Understood.”    
  
As Cassie headed to the conference room, Ianto motioned to one of the stools. Dave threw himself down onto it in his haste to obey, almost toppling it over and having to wrap his feet around the bars and grab the table to steady himself.   
  
“Dave.”   
  
“Yes sir?”   
  
Taking a deep breath, Ianto pulled up a stool opposite him and perched on it, all too aware of the seconds ticking away and the four suspects he had yet to sort through.   
  
“When Richard talked about the call, you said he was telling you all about it. Who is 'all' The whole room?”   
  
“Oh no,” Dave said quickly, shaking his head, “we don't talk about this stuff in front of the techs too much, they're a little too junior, you know? Just, well, us older ones, and the more specialist techs, I mean Lila and I, we've been here ages-”   
  
Ianto bit back the urge to remind Dave that they had been up and running for less than six months, hardly ages.   
  
“-and we, well, we chat and sometimes we chat to the others. And sometimes we share interesting things we've found, like,” Dave laughed to himself, “there was this one time, one of my legion thought he'd found an alien leg, but turned out-”   
  
Ianto cut him off again and shook his head quickly. “Dave, I need you to focus here, okay?”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
“Who. Do. You. Talk with?”   
  
Swallowing hard, Dave looked back over his shoulder at the armoury. “Lila, I have to really, same office and all that, it's talk to her or the walls, although frankly sometimes the walls give a better answer-” Dave stopped, spotting the look on Ianto's face, and concentrated. “Richard and Annabelle, they both smoke and live on the same side of town so tend to come as a pair, so we all, like, chat. About stuff.”   
  
Pausing, he smiled as Ianto nodded encouragingly. “So, just you four-”   
  
“Oh! And Debs, although she's quite new really,” Dave added, “but she just sort of... Joined in.” He frowned to himself. “Can't quite remember how, she doesn't smoke and she doesn't do anything that geeky, she's a bit stuck up to be honest, Tim, you'd think it would be him, nice kid, smoker too, he and Richard and Annabelle, jeez, it's like trying to talk to an ashtray sometimes when they come back in, at least it was, Tim's quitting, it's only been a couple of weeks, but I think Richard's a little weird about him, don't know why -”   
  
“Dave-”   
  
“But yeah, just us, and when Richard said about the call, it was just us five, then I went to play with the blobs, Lila went back to the office, Richard went for a smoke, he keeps trying to get me to start again, smooth bastard, and Debs and Annabelle...” He stopped, trying to remember. “I'm not sure where they went, but they weren't in the main room, because when the alert came in, I was the only one who wasn't a techie left, and I remember thinking, 'shit, where'd everybody go', and then-”   
  
Cassie slipped back into the room, nodding as she jogged across the office to join them, and thankfully stopping Dave from carrying on. Lois came shortly after, carefully locking the conference room behind her. “Jasmine confirms he was with her, she didn't hear anything Richard said, and nobody else had a clue either so he must have kept his voice down.”   
  
“Okay,” Ianto said quickly, “so that's one down, we need to talk to the other four and figure out who knows what's going on. Lois, you said something about Lila?”   
  
“Only that she seemed very curious about Jack, but that was before he came back, she was just asking in general about the old staff files so I figured she'd just seen Jack's name somewhere-”   
  
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Dave said quietly and Ianto's head whipped round to face him again.   
  
“What did you say?”   
  
Sensing he had said something wrong, Dave held up his hands as though to hold them back. “No! I mean, I just remembered, that's what she called him, in there, I didn't even notice really, I thought she was just mixed up with Captain John, it gets hard to keep up sometimes, Captain John, Agent Johnson, all those kid's books characters-”   
  
“She said Captain Jack Harkness, are you sure,” Ianto asked quickly, standing up so fast his stool toppled over backwards.   
  
“I... Yes, I'm sure. Why, is he actually a Captain?”   
  
“Lois,” Ianto said quietly, his hand starting to grip Dave's shoulder uncomfortably hard. “Take Dave back to the conference room, then go to your office and check in with Johnson. Find out when they're getting back.”   
  
“Yes sir,” Lois breathed, tugging on Dave's arm urgently and pulling him away from Ianto's grip, terrified at the anger coming from her boss. “Dave, come  _on_ .”   
  
Letting himself be dragged the first few steps, Dave suddenly found his feet and ran after her, eager to get away from what was going on. Unlocking the door, she almost threw him in, hissing to say nothing, before slamming the door behind him.   
  
Turning to face the rest of the technicians, Dave took in the sight of Tim sitting cross legged on the table, a torch propped up in his lap and acting as an uplighter against his face.   
  
“Oh, hey man, we were just telling ghost stories.” Digging into his pocket, Tim pulled out a battered packet of chewing gum and offered it to him with a smile that looked oddly sinister in spite of the friendly gesture. “Gum? I've got regular, fruit, sugar free or nicotine?”   
  
**************************************** **********   
  
Ianto flung Lila through the door and into the Blob's room, the bright colours of the play equipment and tubes stretching around them muted and washed out in the darkness as she skidded to the floor. “Sir, I-”   
  
“Quiet, you will speak when I say.” Ianto glanced round as Cassie strode in behind him, dragging two chairs with her and setting them up facing each other. “Sit.”   
  
At his command, Lila uncertainly dragged herself up into one of the chairs as Cassie sat opposite her, shining a torch directly into her face. “Sir, please, I-”   
  
“Tell us your name.”   
  
“Delilah Barry.”   
  
“Age?”   
  
“Twenty six, Ianto you-”   
  
“How long have you been working for us?”   
  
“I... about five months, Gwen oversaw my hiring-”   
  
“How long have you been spying on us?”   
  
“I haven't-”   
  
“Wait,” Cassie interrupted, leaning forward and regarding the other woman coldly. “Lila, are you a spy?”   
  
“No!”   
  
“There...” Cassie whispered, her fingertips rising to brush over Lila's face. “Fear. Disgust? But there's more. You're lying to us.”   
  
“No!” At the words, Ianto leaned in closer, grabbing her by the neck of her shirt and half lifting her from the chair.   
  
“Did you betray us? Did you get Noddy hurt?”   
  
“What? No! Noddy's hurt? How-”   
  
Using his free hand, Ianto backhanded her across the face making her cry out. “Have you been spying on us?”   
  
“No! I swear!” Lila struggled against his grip, her glasses falling to the floor as she tried to get free. “I swear to you, sir, I have never, ever, betrayed Torchwood. I swear on my life-”   
  
“Wait!” Cassie stood, reaching out and pushing Ianto's hand away gently, breaking his grip with just a brush of her fingers. “Look at me Lila. And say that again.”   
  
Breathing fast, scared out of her mind, Lila pulled back down from Ianto's grip and held on tight to the chair under her, half wrapping her feet around the chair legs as though it might protect her. Her eyes were red with threatened tears and she sniffed loudly in the dark room. “I swear, I am loyal to Torchwood. I always have been.”   
  
Cassie hesitated, staring hard into her features and trying to read what she saw. “That's the truth,” she whispered, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.   
  
“You said she was a spy, Lois said she was asking about Jack-”   
  
“Is that what this is about? Harkness?” Lila asked, her voice high and panicked. “I... I can explain, I just-”   
  
“How do you know his name?” Ianto bellowed, grabbing her again and pushing her backwards so the chair was tilted back on just two legs, close to falling over if he let go of her, her legs flailing and trying to keep the balance.   
  
“No! Please don't, I just...”   
  
“If she says he's her father I may have to shoot him,” Cassie said dryly as she sat down again, then laughed as a look of revulsion that was all too readable came over Lila's face.   
  
“No fucking way, my father was a good and honourable man-”   
  
“You must be such a disappointment to him then,” Ianto snarled, letting her fall another inch towards the floor and making her squeal in fear.   
  
“Fuck you, sir,” she spat back, her arms letting go of the chair and reaching up to grab him instead. “My parents were fighting for Torchwood since before you were born, my father gave his  _life_  for Torchwood, and I would too! You know  _nothing_  about my family!”   
  
In his surprise, Ianto almost dropped her; instead he just about managed to pull her back up, and plant the chair firmly back on the ground, before stepping back. “What?”   
  
“When?” Cassie asked quickly, rising to her feet, her hand grabbing onto the back of Ianto's shirt and searching the face of the woman for anything familiar.   
  
“He wasn't Torchwood One,” Lila blurted out, her hands rising to wipe at her face angrily and brushing away the slowly forming tears “He was Torchwood Two, back in the 90's.”   
  
“Torchwood Two?” Cassie said, confused..   
  
“But there's only one man at Torchwood two,” Ianto said, “he runs it alone-”   
  
“My godfather, okay? My godfather runs Torchwood Two, he took care of me and my mam ever since my dad was killed. I've never been what you might call official or on the pay roll, I was underage, Torchwood One would've freaked, but I've been helping out since I was thirteen and old enough to hold a gun or work a computer. I'd go to boarding school in England during the term then go home and fight aliens with mam in the holidays in Scotland. When Paw heard you were reforming down here, he suggested I sign up for real this time.” Shrugging, she tried to straighten her clothes. “Figured I may as well get the benefits as well as the hassles for once.”   
  
“Cassie?”   
  
“She... I can't see any deception. I can't be sure but I think it's the truth.”   
  
“And Jack?” Ianto said, staring at Lila still. “You were asking about Jack?”   
  
She looked almost embarrassed and shrugged again. “He came up once when I was just a kid, right after dad died. He was nice to me then. Paw used to tell me stories, and Jack sounds like a hell of a bastard too, but the good kind, mostly, like one of those dark comic book heroes, all tortured and I was,” she blushed slightly, “I was just a kid, a messed up teenager with barely enough bits of family left to keep me going and I had a bit of an obsession with him. I thought, if I can grow up and use my pain to be a hero like that, then maybe, maybe...” She broke off, staring down at her lap.   
  
“When I heard he lost his gun, I thought...” She shrugged again and squirmed in the chair. “I thought, it's a bit like, I don't know, Luke Skywalker losing his lightsaber or Indiana Jones without the whip, it just didn't seem right. There was a couple of Webley's on sale through a gun shop in London. I was trying to figure out the exact model so I could- We wanted to get him a present, okay? I found the gun, and Paw was gonna send it to Jack as a gift, to replace his old one.”   
  
“You...” Ianto pushed past Cassie and sank down on the chair. “You worked for Torchwood Two, and you joined us so you could, what? Get Jack a present.”   
  
“That was just a side thing,” Lila admitted, relaxing a little as the threat seemed to pass. “Look, I've been fighting ever since I can remember, I lost my dad, I practically lost my mum after that and did for real five years later, and Paw has been great to me. He wanted to keep an eye on you all, make sure it was all okay down here. He taught me to fight, and hide and just... Torchwood is all I've ever had, and all I've ever wanted. Besides, everyone knows if you want action you want Torchwood Three,” she added with a small smile. “This place was legendary even when I was a kid. The Doctor and the rift and all of it.”   
  
“You don't sound Scottish,” Cassie said with a distracted voice, as though the thought had been bugging her, and Lila smiled and slipped into a refined and very posh English accent.   
  
“I wasn't rich, but I went to a very nice public boarding school in England, I'm gay, was a Goth, and I believed in aliens. I was bullied enough as it was, so also sounding like,” she slipped into a broad Scottish accent, “a wee bairn from Glasgae, wouldnae help, now, would it?” Returning to her normal voice, she blew out a shaky sigh. “Look, you can either choose to believe me, or you can throw me out, but I swear I am no spy. I just... I wanted to succeed because of me, not because of my family, okay?”   
  
“You said you had a brother and sister-” Cassie started.   
  
“I do, both older. They'd already left home when Dad died, they didn't want anything to do with Torchwood after that, 'specially after mum died too. Figured the stress and heartbreak killed her and caused the cancer. They're normal, married, kids, both hate my 'gay phase' as my sister calls it, we just about tolerate the family gatherings for births, marriages, and funerals, without killing each other. It's just me and Paw now.”   
  
“Cassie?”   
  
Sighing, Cassie leaned against the back of Ianto's chair and shrugged. “I believe her.”   
  
“So do I,” Ianto admitted. “It's too bizarre and too easily checked to be a story. That's not to say I won't be checking, right away.”   
  
“I'll dial the number if you want,” Lila said quickly, “Paw will confirm everything.”   
  
“Paw.”   
  
“My godfather. He, uh, doesn't like anyone using his real name, even us. Paw is slang for father. Dad was and always will be my Dad, but Paw is... Well, it fit.” She squirmed a little again. “Look, I'm sorry I lied to you-”   
  
“I'm getting really sick of hearing that,” Ianto remarked to Cassie over his shoulder.   
  
“-but you know I'm the best at my job, and I'm capable and... Fuck, I just really, really want this.”   
  
Closing his eyes, Ianto shook his head slowly. “Cassie, stay here with her whilst I check her story.” Rising to his feet, he hesitated on his way to the door and turned back. “Although it does sort of explain how he's managed to run that place on his own for so long. I went up for a week to help with the archives soon after I joined Torchwood, nice enough bloke-” Ianto froze, staring at Lila hard. “There _was_  a girl there, she delivered lunch every day.”   
  
“If I was a girl then you were just a boy yourself, we're almost the same age, sir,” Lila chuckled and moved a hand up to her hair. “And I had long blonde hair and a Scottish accent back then, Goth had become too mainstream, and I wasn't quite ready to embrace dyke yet.”   
  
Shaking his head, Ianto ran a hand over his stubble tiredly as he headed out of the room to make the call. “That's it, I am officially getting too old for this, if I find someone here who  _hasn't_  been lying to me it will be a miracle...”   
  
**************************************** **********   
  
Annabelle was scared, so scared. She wasn't sure when she had ever been this scared. The way Lila had been hauled off, the look of sheer anger on Ianto's face... Wrapping her arms around her legs, she curled up in the corner, rocking slightly.    
  
At the sight, Richard scrambled over, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close to him, ignoring the look of disdain Debs was giving them both. “Hey, it's going to be alright.”   
  
“No it's not,” Annabelle said quickly, shaking her head, “the way he dragged Lila off, she had to have done something really bad, or what if she didn't, what if he just thinks she did and he thinks we have too, what are they going to do to us?”   
  
“Nothing,” Richard said quickly, rubbing her back and trying not to think about all the times he had dreamed about being this close to her. He had even envisaged something like this, the pair of them trapped somewhere, maybe with Weevils outside, nothing too dangerous but fear and adrenaline making them cling to each other, and then...   
  
He hadn't pictured anything like this though. He'd thought he would be all cool and calm as he usually was with girls, he hadn't expected to feel his pulse pounding in his head or the way his stomach was twisting. He was sure she could feel his hands shaking as he held on to her, making a lie of his words.   
  
“It's going to be fine.”   
  
“Will you two please shut up,” Debs remarked harshly from her perch on the counter, staring down at them. “It's bad enough being stuck in here without her whimpering on and you trying to be all gentlemanly.”   
  
“What's the matter with you?” Richard snapped back, unable to understand why Debs was being so nasty. “This is serious. You saw what he did to Lila-”   
  
“Yes, and I'm sure she will be back at work tomorrow, being as strange and dykey as always, just as you two will be back making eyes at each other, and thinking nobody else notices, when the entire office is on to you.” Swinging one leg up to fold it across the other, she placed her hands flat on the side. “Me on the other hand, well...” She glanced at the door and the first trace of apprehension flickered over her face. “I probably won't know who I am, assuming they don't just kill me straight off.”   
  
“Why would they do that?” Richard asked as Annabelle stared up, an odd expression on her face as though she had suddenly realised something.   
  
“You really are cute but stupid sometimes, aren't you vampire boy?” Debs sighed before swinging down off the surface and crouching in front of him. “I'm the one they're looking for.” Reaching out, she messed up his hair, making him duck his head away angrily.   
  
“What did you do?” Annabelle asked shakily, her fingers playing over the crucifix around her neck almost as though trying to ward off a vampire.   
  
“I looked out for me,” Debs replied simply, rolling her eyes at them. “I was going to keep quiet and hope that I could buy some time whilst you two were being tortured instead, but I'll be honest, the thought of being trapped in here with either of  _you_  a second longer is the real torture.” Pushing back up to her feet, she began hammering her fist on the door. “So.” She punctuated each word with another bang on the door. “Don't worry Annabelle, they're not going to do anything to you.”   
  
The door clicked and she stepped back, her hands on her hips as the door swung open, and Ianto was there, staring back at her.   
  
“I confess. I'm the spy.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nothing truly valuable arises from ambition or from a mere sense of duty; it stems rather from love and devotion towards men and towards objective things.”  
> Albert Einstein

Big Ears didn't notice the streetlights flashing past the Land Rover, or pay any attention to Bill swearing at the traffic. He didn't see Ben's worried glances, or hear the muffled whispers of his colleagues. All his attention was on the pale face in his lap. Noddy was ghostly white, his features slack, but every now and then he would stir, just a little, as though in pain. Big couldn't be sure it was real and not his imagination. Or worse, his memory. He could still feel the last time he had held his unconscious brother, except that time there had been blood too, and bruises, darkening before his very eyes.   
  
As a teenager, after he had found out his brother was gay, he had played out the possible scenarios and threats so many times, tried so hard to protect his brother. He had even insisted on giving Noddy and his dates a lift so they wouldn't be seen walking home together. Noddy had been annoyed, but he at least know it was not because Big was ashamed of him, but because he was so very scared of what someone else might think or do.  
  
Big Ears had been so worried about the threat from strangers, from what might happen on some dark street corner or moonlit park, that it had never occurred to him to worry about what might happen within their own home.   
  
He could feel the memories he's tried so hard to push aside so clear and fresh in his mind, the creature's attack dragging them from the murky depths of his mind up to the surface again, emerging in brilliant technicolour. Big had thought he remembered it, had been so sure he would never forget it, but the invasion of his mind awakened things that had slipped away unnoticed.   
  
The feel of carpet burning into his knees as he rolled on the floor. The sound of the grandfather clock, ticking incessantly in the corner. The smell of his mother's tea, knocked to the floor and seeping into the rug. The waft of his father's aftershave mixing with Noddy's, the mix of Brut and Lynx turning his stomach. Walking into the lounge when he got home from work, his shop uniform still on, the collar irritating his shaving rash from where he had hurried that morning.  
  
Big had at first thought someone had broken in, that it was a burglar that was towering over Noddy, that some stranger was the one kicking out, and making his little brother make that sound, a sound he would never, ever, forget.  
  
He'd seen red, tackling the figure to the ground and laying into it, punching anything and everything he could reach. He didn't stop until his mother's panicked screams had made him pause long enough to see the face he was hitting, or hear the voice yelling the words echoing through his head, saying all the names he had dreaded being cast his little brother's way. He had been expecting them to be the voices of strangers though, not someone he knew, someone he loved.  
  
Not his own dad.  
  
Big had thought until then that every parent would react like his friend Pete's had. This was the 21st century after all, by now it was so commonplace that any parent would surely put their own child's happiness ahead of any lingering bias.   
  
Pete's mum had cried for about a day, then joined up with every PFLAG group she could find. She had dragged him to the nearest Pride march every year, whether he wanted to go or not, and arranged for his 18th birthday party to be held in a Gay bar and spent half the evening trying to set him up with various men. His older brothers had had it worse though – all her grandchild hopes transferred to them, emotional blackmail and sly remarks accompanying every new girlfriend.  
  
Pete's dad had gone quiet for a few minutes, gone out for a smoke, then come back in and clapped his son on a back. Remarking that at least he had one son who he didn't have to worry about throwing his life away by getting some girl pregnant, he had simply gone back to watching TV and yelling that the house rules about overnight guests were the same regardless of gender.  
  
Big Ears had thought that his parents would be the same. After all, this was Sammy, their little boy. They might not be quite as enthusiastic, and he knew his mum would definitely take longer than a day to get over it, but they would be okay. His dad would no doubt sulk for a while, maybe yell and break a few things, but it would be fine. They would come round.  
  
He'd never realised that whilst most families were accepting, some tried to ignore it and just hope that it would go away again. Some chose to think of it as a passing phase, one that would fade in time before their child settled down. Some saw it as a crisis of faith, or a disease, and tried to cure or 'pray away the gay'. He'd never though that others would be so deeply in denial that they would try to beat it out.   
  
Looking back, Big blamed himself for not seeing the signs, for not remembering every gay joke and disparaging remark his dad had made, for not anticipating that his hot temper might make him lash out, but he made sure he would never make that mistake again.  
  
The brothers had run away as soon as Noddy was out of the hospital and never looked back. Sammy had insisted on keeping in touch with their mother, messages passed on through an aunt once a month, but nothing else. Big Ears had never been able to work out which was worse, the way his father had beat his own son, or the way his mother had stood by and watched him do it, had tried to make excuses for him afterwards. But that was a long time ago, their family was just the two of them, and he intended to keep it that way. It was safer.  
  
To look at the kid now you would never know what they had come from. The army had saved them both, but it still hadn't been completely safe for a babyfaced kid with a heart that simply didn't see gender as an issue. He knew his brother's success with and genuine love for the ladies would keep him safe, but even so, as soon as things had gone to hell, Big Ears had told Johnson straight out that he was going to get his brother.   
  
To his surprise, in spite of them all being in seven kinds of trouble with their own government declaring them traitors, she had not only agreed, but arranged the entire op. He had promised that night that no matter what she asked of him, he would always give it.  
  
Except for maybe one thing.  
  
Stroking his brother's hair back from his face, Big Ears could see his fingers shaking with the effort and barely feel the strands sliding past his fingers. His head was pounding so hard he just wanted to close his eyes and try to sleep, to push the pain away.  
  
Except every time he did, he was right back in his front room with his brother's battered body in his arms. Every time he opened them, he was in the Land Rover with his brother's unconscious body in his arms. He hurt, inside and out, his energy drained and his mind feeling as though it was stretched out too far, like it was an elastic band and part of him was still in the house. He could feel the tension rising with every mile and just hoped he would snap back to himself soon.  
  
But if it meant his brother would be okay, he didn't care if he never did. Fighting to keep the tremors from his fingers, Big Ears carried on stroking his brother's hair, just waiting for him to wake up and tell him off about it. He would wake up soon. He would.  
  
  
**************************************** ********  
  
Cassie watched as Ianto threw Debs into the room, his rage evident as he dragged her over to the chair and forced her onto it. But Cassie wasn't concentrating on him at all, her attention focused on the self confessed spy in their midst. “You?” Ianto spat out at last, pacing behind Debs' chair and unable to see the smirk on her face as she stared right back at Cassie.  
  
“Me.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Cassie watched as the girl shrugged, her expression one of complete indifference and contempt, a lazy, selfish look. “Why not? It's not like you pay much here, and you were going to cut me anyway. I figured, I may as well get something out of my time here.”  
  
“Money? You betrayed us for  _money?_ ”  
  
“I'd like to say it was something more noble but yeah, pretty much.”  
  
“How long?” Laughing, Debs shook her head slowly.   
  
“Long enough to know an awful lot about you, Ianto Jones.” The smirk fading, she looked almost bored, making a show of examining her nails as she recited information. “Ianto Jones, born 19th August 1983 in Cardiff, one sister, Rhiannon, and her husband Jonny who recently moved over the border to Bristol.” Twisting in the chair, Debs looked up at Ianto and smiled. “Lovely house, so good to see David and Mica having room to run around-”  
  
Cassie winced as Ianto slapped Debs, the blow forcing her head back to the front, facing Cassie. Leaning forwards, she stared hard at Debs, trying to read her as she lifted her head back up again.  
  
“Your team,” Debs continued, “Lois Habiba, recently released from a military prison, now your PA. Her family still lives in London and they were worried sick about her whilst she was locked up. Turns out, nobody bothered to tell them she was alive. Tut tut, Mr Jones, not very considerate of your workforce-”  
  
Debs' head slammed forward from another blow from Ianto, but as she looked up there was no pain or fear on her face, just a smirk.   
  
“How long have you been spying on us?”  
  
“Agent Johnson and her team, a crack unit who used to work outside the normal military as an extension of the secret service, an elite team specialising in assassinations, incursions and all the really messy stuff that needs taking care of within our own borders but outside of our laws. Oh Ianto, if you knew some of the thing's they'd done-”  
  
“I'm well aware of what she's capable of, thank you very much,” Ianto snarled, still pacing behind her, his footsteps a steady rhythm.  
  
“Oh, I don't think you are, why don't you try asking her why she was kicked out of the Army? Might open your eyes a bit.”   
  
“None of this proves you are a spy,” Cassie pointed out softly, “you could be making things up or have pieced this information together from anyone here.”  
  
“That's what a spy does,” Debs pointed out petulantly. “As for something you don't yet know, Noddy and Big Ears, Noddy's real name is Samuel and he met a very interesting young man at that party who he hasn't called yet. He  _will_  be disappointed-”  
  
“How-” Ianto started, then sighed and brought his hand up to his face. “They borrowed your car.”  
  
“Yes, although I thought they were just going to see that girl, you almost caught me out by sending the rest of the team to the house too.” Sighing, she shrugged again and crossed her legs. “Oh well, all good things must come to an end.”  
  
“You've broken your cover, why?”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“What?” Cassie said, surprised.  
  
“Why not? I mean, what's the worst that you can do to me? We know all about you Mr Jones, there are profiles, and little bits of analysis, and we've even had people go through your rubbish. Although, having a communal bin for your flats makes that one a bit haphazard, I'm not entirely sure the denture cream or the contraceptive wrappers were yours-”  
  
“You think you know me?” Ianto hissed, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back sharply. “You think you know what I might do to you?”  
  
She didn't blink, didn't crack at all, just stared up at him. “You wouldn't be the first.”  
  
Letting go, he pushed her head forwards, rocking her on the chair. Cassie watched as Debs licked her lips, grinning again, and couldn't help but shudder. She was used to reading people, reading their expressions, seeing their lies, but this was totally outside her training. She could see that the pain really didn't bother Debs, she wasn't afraid. If anything, she was excited by it all, her attitude, if anything, as though she was treating it as a game.  
  
“What about me?” Cassie asked quietly. “Do you know who I am?”  
  
There, the smallest flinch, the smallest crack in the armour, the lack of knowledge annoying their spy.   
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“So you must know about Jack too then, after all, we go back a very long way.” She could see Ianto shooting her a questioning look, just the faintest glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored it.  
  
“Of course, Captain Jack.”  
  
A bluff. She could see it, the faintest trace of bluster, of covering up. She had heard the name, but had no idea what it really meant.  
  
“Too many Captains, I know, such a cliché,” Cassie continued. “And I would bet good money neither of them have ever been near real military. I reckon you could search back through, what, twenty years worth of military records and come up with nothing for them. Heck, I bet that's not even their real names. Plus Jack's American, I mean, how many Captain Jack's could there possibly be in the UK?”  
  
“Not enough to make it that hard a search.” A flash of something, fear, as though she had given away too much passed over Debs' face. “Anyway, real names are overrated. Aliases are much more fun.”  
  
“Like Debbie Reynolds?”  
  
Another smirk.   
  
“Yeah, well, my parents used to love that stupid movie she was in, Singing in the Rain, so why not?”  
  
Cassie sat back and nodded, “parents do odd things. So is that why you became a spy? To rebel and get back at them?”  
  
“What?” Debs laughed, folding her arms tightly as Ianto stopped pacing and stood over her. “You really think this is all going to come down to Daddy issues? Oh get real. I just wanted a decent job and they made just the right offer.”  
  
“What kind of offer?”  
  
“What do you think?” She spat back, “cash, a career, responsibility, a job where I'm not constantly mocked, a bit of Goddamn excitement for once?”  
  
“And what we offered wasn't enough?” Ianto asked coldly. “Helping people, trying to keep the world safe, aliens and wonders-”  
  
“You were going to fire me!” She shouted, slamming her hands down against the side of the chair. “I wasn't going to get all of that, I was going back to that stupid group of amateurs and fossils back at the foundation, I was going to be lost in there forever! It's like, showing me everything I could want and then ripping it away again! So why the Hell shouldn't I go for it if someone else offers?”  
  
“Because of loyalty?” Ianto shouted, grabbing the chair and throwing her out of it, onto the floor, her hands barely stopping her face from hitting the smooth lino. “Because we all gave you a chance in the first place? Because it's the right thing to do?”  
  
“Right is relative,” she shouted, twisting to look up at him, even as he slapped her again, forcing her gaze back to her own hands, fingers spread wide on the floor. “It all depends on who wins.”  
  
“Get up.” Ianto's face was cold, harsh, and unnerving as he moved to stand in front of Debs again, to the side of Cassie. “Is there anything we can offer that would persuade you to talk, to turn back?”  
  
Snorting, Debs shook her head angrily, picking herself up off the floor and standing up straight. “Too late for that now.”  
  
“Truth,” Cassie said simply.  
  
“Will you tell us what we need to know to stop this before anyone else gets hurt?”  
  
“No.” Cassie nodded.  
  
“Then you leave us no choice.” Putting his hand on Cassie's shoulder, he squeezed it once then moved back behind Debs, drawing a weapon from his waistband and placing it against the side of her head, making Cassie scream.  
  
“Ianto, no!”  
  
“No choice but what?” Debs sneered, her fists clenched tight but her legs shaking slightly. “You gonna kill me? We  _know_  you Jones, you won't do anything to me, you haven't got the stomach for it! You can kill me if you want, but you will never, ever, make me talk! You hear me? Never!”  
  
“No, but I can make you shut up.”  
  
Pulling the trigger, a blue flash of electricity flared against her temple and Debs' eyes rolled up into her head. Collapsing, she fell in a crumpled heap to the floor of the Blob's room. Stepping over her, Ianto put the stun gun away again, and offered a hand to a pale faced Cassie, pulling her up off the chair.  
  
As they left the room, shutting the door behind them, Cassie found her voice again. “What did you do?”  
  
“Stunned her, she'll be fine in fifteen minutes or so. That'll give me time to put her back in the armoury.”  
  
“And then what?” Cassie asked. “She's right though, isn't she? You couldn't kill her.”  
  
“Yes, I could, quite happily," he hissed, his face dark, and Cassie took a step back in surprise. "But I can't give in to that, and besides, it won't do us any good. We need her to talk, not just suffer, and I don't have... I can't do that.” Ianto looked back, glancing at the door. “But I know a man who could.”  
  
  
**************************************** **************  
  
Bill pulled the Land Rover up as close to the stairwell door as he could, without risking the paintwork or leaving them without enough room to manoeuvre, but he could still feel his heart pounding from the drive as he leapt from the car. The headlight warning chime was insistent as he left but the light from the headlights was all they had to work by and he didn't care, not when there was no time to waste. He had never done 120mph down the motorway before and the car had not liked it. Neither had the speed cameras; he had stopped counting the flashes after the first half dozen.   
  
It had bugged him that the protected power lines to the street lights were being used for the speed cameras too; it didn't seem fair somehow. There was going to be hell to pay when the fines came through, and they were lucky the blackout had kept the police occupied long enough to get through unhindered.  
  
He wasn't sure it had done any good though.   
  
Flinging open the back door, Bill reached out for Noddy's legs, the younger man's boots slipping out from the door frame to hang limply over the edge of the seat. Big Ears was sitting still on the other side, his brother's head in his lap, and his fingers were wrapped tight in the material of Noddy's jacket, his knuckles white.  
  
“Big, c'mon, give him to me, let's get him inside-”  
  
“No! I'll take him, nobody touches him, you hear me, nobody fucking touches him but me!”  
  
“Come on Big,” Ben said softly, slipping round the vehicle to open the door behind Big Ears. “It's twenty two floors, you can't carry him alone, you're still messed up yourself.”  
  
“He's my responsibility, I got him into this mess, I... I did this to him.”  
  
Bill glanced through the car at Ben, catching his eye before nodding his head towards Big Ears discretely before slipping the palms of his hands to rest against the soles of Noddy's boots. The slightest hint of a wink was all the acknowledgement Ben gave, but he shifted, crouching down to rest his foot against the bottom of the door frame and putting his hand on Big Ears' arm.  
  
“It's not your fault,” Ben said softly, “you couldn't've stopped this. Listen, we need to get him inside, there's a doctor coming and he can't very well treat him down here. Bill's faster than you up the stairs, hell he's faster than you on the flat even in civvies, let alone when you've got a full pack on,” Ben teased gently. “He can get him up there faster, just let go of Noddy-”  
  
“Sammy,” Big Ears snapped, his face so pale in the dim light he almost looked like he was the one who was ill. Noddy looked well by comparison; his muttering had long since stopped and he could simply have been sleeping. “Call him Sam. He wanted – wants – to hear his name more often.”  
  
“Sam.” Ben smiled slightly. “No problem. Let Bill take Sam upstairs, and I'll help you up, we'll be right behind him.”  
  
They watched, seeing Big Ears think about it, and couldn't help wondering how much of what he'd experienced at the house was still affecting him. They'd never seen him this scared before, his eyes darting around nervously as though they were complete strangers, instead of people who had lived and fought alongside him for years.   
  
They still knew him though. They watched, seeing his grip weaken just slightly, not much. But enough that Ben could feel the trembling of muscles under his fingers, could see how much of a struggle it was for Big Ears just to hold on, let alone grip tightly. He was still weak; they could take him.  
  
Reaching out, Ben made sure his hands were flat on Big Ears' wrists, holding him gently. “Big?” He could see the moment when Big Ears started to relax, and thought for a second they could talk him down, but then there was a flare of something in his eyes, some terror, some image in his mind's eye that was telling him not to let go. Glancing at Bill, not saying a word but offering a silent apology to his friends for this, Ben gave just the faintest hint of a nod.  
  
As one they moved, Ben gripping tight onto Big Ears' wrists, using his leverage against the car door to push backwards, hauling Big Ears from the car, and crashing them both down to the floor of the parking level. Even as they moved, Bill yanked hard on Noddy's body and he slid easily across the back seat. It didn't take Bill more than a few seconds to lean into the car and drag Noddy over his shoulder. His fireman’s lift was a little rough, so he took a moment to balance himself, his arms holding on for dear life to Noddy's arm and leg.  
  
Big Ears was yelling, his rage incoherent, as Ben struggled to contain him before finally getting a fresh grip on his friend, barely aware of Bill running for the stairs as fast as he could. “Big! For fuck's sake, calm down, let's go, come on.”  
  
Big Ears was still not fully aware, Ben could see it in his face – the flashes of it he caught as the other man wriggled and struggled on top of him anyway. “Big, I'm really sorry about this,” Ben muttered, finally managing to grab his non lethal gun, and firing it at close range into the only piece of Big that would stay still long enough. As the pellet impacted Big Ears' neck, he cried out once more, a furious sound that echoed around the enclosed parking floor before finally dying out as he collapsed.  
  
As Big went limp, Ben groaned at the dead weight on top of him and sighed. “For a runt, you weigh a ton you know mate.” Wriggling out from under him, Ben clambered to his feet and looked down at his friend. “This would've been a hell of a lot easier if you'd just walked,” he complained as he bent down to grab Big Ears. Swinging his friend up onto his shoulders, Ben let out a loud oof and shook his head slightly. “Twenty two floors. We've got to get a better electric company.” Kicking open the door to the stairwell, he began the slow climb and hoped that the drugs would wear off – and Big Ears would be in a better mood - before they hit the teens.  
  
  
**************************************** ***************  
  
Bill hefted Noddy's body in his arms and leaned against the wall, getting his breath back as he looked up the remaining stairs, then looked down, checking to make sure the others were following. Somewhere below he could hear Ben swearing to himself and grinned. “You alright down there?”  
  
“Big Ears needs to go on a diet,” Ben wheezed back, the light from his torch bobbing into view a few floors below. “Oh shit-”  
  
Bill leaned over the bannister and frowned as he heard Ben start thumping about, looking as though he was banging off the walls and flinging Big Ears' body around. It took him a few seconds to realise the flinging was all on Big Ears' part. Putting Noddy carefully down on the stairwell floor, Bill drew his tranquilliser gun and took aim, using his torch to help find his mark in the dark stairs, the emergency lighting almost more of a hindrance than a help.  
  
“Ben, freeze!”  
  
Not really understanding the command, but obeying instantly, his trust in his partner total and unreserved, Ben froze, standing as still as he could - and giving Bill a clear shot. A second later the thrashing stopped as Big Ears became still again.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“Fine,” Ben answered with a groan. “Great, now I've got to carry him up another ten flights.”  
  
Grinning, Bill holstered his weapon and picked up Noddy, settling him in his arms before striding on again. He wasn't exactly well rested or revitalised, but he at least wasn't in any danger of tripping over his own feet or passing out. He was getting out of shape, Cardiff was turning him soft.  
  
As he glanced down at Noddy's slack face, half buried against his chest, Bill frowned and picked up the pace, pushing himself to move faster, taking the stairs two at a time as he hurried to the top. Soft or not, he wasn't going to let the kid down if he could help it. Just a little further.  
  
  
**************************************** ************  
  
Big Ears came around quickly, the second batch of knock out pellets wearing off fast. His mind was much clearer this time, but his body was still weak, and he was grateful someone had put him in a chair.  
  
He was even more grateful when he realised the chair was beside Noddy's makeshift bed.  
  
The examination couch was comfortable enough, he knew, but he couldn't help wishing they could have gone to a proper hospital where doctors and nurses would be fussing over him even now. Not that there was anything they could really do. Someone had put a powerful battery powered lantern on the side to light up the room, but the diagnostic equipment was on the protected power supply, the soft chirps and beeps of the machinery somehow soothing in the half light, much gentler than proper hospital gear. He could hear the murmur of raised voices outside but blocked them out, trusting his friends to be on the case.  
  
Shuffling his chair closer, Big Ears took hold of his brother's hand and squeezed it tight, waiting for a welcoming squeeze back that never came. Sighing, he settled down alongside him, brushing the longish fringe back from Noddy's face, and rubbing his thumb over his brother's palm as he spoke.  
  
“Why's it always you who ends up in this mess, eh kiddo? Sorry there's no hot nurses to smother you in bandages and stuff this time, you've just got me. Although maybe you'd prefer a hot male nurse, or one of each.” He paused, smiling slightly. “That's the one thing I never could figure out, how you know which you want at any given time. Do you have straight days and gay days? Or is it more about having a particular type? Or is it more the person and not the gender at all?”  
  
“I guess it doesn't matter, but I just... I know I've never really said it, but I want you to know I'm fine with it, really I am. Pete was just a surprise, and okay, so maybe I already had a long held desire to punch the little creep, but I... I love you little brother, just as you are, and if you think it's time we started trusting people a little more then... Then I guess we can do that. I just, I've spent so long worrying about you, and trying to keep you safe, I sometimes forget you're not just a kid any more. Maybe you're right, maybe it's been just us for too long.”  
  
Closing his eyes against the migraine threatening behind his skull, Big Ears leaned forwards and rested his head on the couch by his brother's leg, and looked up at him sleepily. “I'm just going to close my eyes for a minute, okay Sammy? So it's your turn to talk to me. Tell me about that guy from the house, or quote Star Trek, or who you prefer, Marcus or Ivanova from B5. 'Cause if you don't talk to me then I'm going to have to start talking again and neither of us want that, now do we?”  
  
Settling down beside him, Big Ears closed his eyes, and willed for his brother to be okay when he opened them again.  
  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Sarah moved quietly through the medical room, checking on Noddy as best she could, and generally doing whatever she could to make him comfortable. Which, by her own admission, was not much. She wasn't qualified for this. Yes, she had done some basic medical training and she had been a carer for longer than she cared to remember, but still, this was seriously beyond her knowledge.  
  
Checking the IV and readings, she made sure Noddy was at least still being fed, hydrated and given some mild painkillers just in case. It was the most basic of care, she knew that, but Ianto had promised someone else would be here to take over soon. They all just had to hang on for now.  
  
“How is he?” She looked up as Ianto called from the doorway, his arms folded as he leaned against the doorway. Shaking her head, she shrugged, uncertain.  
  
“I really don't know, from what I can tell he's comatose but I just, I'm not sure what to do with him. I can take care of the rest of him but his brain-” She stopped as Ianto's phone beeped, the screen flashing bright in the dim doorway as he opened up the text message.   
  
“I may be able to help with that,” he said with a grin, “that's my friend who was finding us a doctor, apparently he's five minutes out. I'm going to go let him in.” He stepped forward and placed a hand on Big Ears' shoulder, the soldier looking up at him with a touch more hope in his eyes. “We'll sort this. I promise.”  
  
Big Ears didn't answer, just watched as Ianto left and leaned forward to whisper to Noddy. “You hear that Sammy? Not long now, just hang on.” Squeezing his brother's hand tight, he nodded to himself. “Just hang on.”  
  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Ianto hurried down the last few stairs, panting hard as he flung open the door to the street. Swinging his torch over the dark figures standing there, he could hear the faint sound of a helicopter thudding somewhere in the night behind them. As his torch rose, he took in the masculine form, the bright green bag with a white cross on it, the leather jacket, the stubble and-  
  
“Oh, it's you.”  
  
“No need to sound so pleased to see me,” Tom Milligan replied, his eyes cold but a hint of smugness on his face. “I may not be as good at this alien rubbish as Martha, but I do have some things going for me.”  
  
“How... How'd you get here so fast?”  
  
Shrugging, Tom looked over his shoulder as the shape of a medevac helicopter rose into the sky from behind one of the nearby buildings. “Like I said, I do have some things going for me.” He glanced at his companion, a stern looking woman with dark hair, flashes of grey streaks catching the torchlight. “What, you didn't really think Martha was the only one who has friends with helicopters did you? Or friends who actually are brain surgeons,” he added, with a nod to is companion. “Dr Grace Stephens, neuro-encologist. Grace, this is Ianto, one of the many men who helped ruin my marriage.”   
  
Pushing his bag into Ianto's arms, Tom moved past him into the corridor, Ianto spotting a dark back pack on his shoulders as he went. Dr Stevens offered a tight lipped smile as she put what looked like a briefcase in Ianto's arms too, a more normal looking medical kit in her other hand.   
  
“Let me guess,” Tom sighed as he took in the stairs, “top floor and the power's still out so it's the stairs, right?” Nodding, Ianto locked the door again behind them and turned to follow, juggling the bags until he had one in each hand, and headed for the stairs.  
  
This was not going to be fun.  
  
**************************************** ******************  
  
“So this is our patient?” Dr Stephens strode into the medical room, ignoring the young man sat by the bed, obviously a visitor, and addressing the young woman instead.  
  
“Uh, yes, this is Sammy, I'm Sarah and-”  
  
“Do you have a chart for him?”  
  
“Uh,” the young woman, Sarah, nodded and scrambled around the bed to grab a folder from the desk. “Yeah, and we also have everything on the computer too-” Grace glanced up at the screens and took in what she could, nodding to herself.   
  
“Good, I'll need someone to assist me who knows how to work your equipment-”  
  
“Sarah is the most familiar with it,” Ianto confirmed from the doorway.  
  
“Good, good. Right, I'll need to examine the patient, everyone who isn't a doctor please leave-”  
  
“I want to stay with my brother.” The soldier sitting by the bed finally spoke and she looked up, surprised she hadn't spotted any family resemblance before as she was usually good at that. As she looked more closely, she realised there was very little to spot; maybe something about the eyes, and the mouth, but physically they weren't that alike at all. Softening, she smiled and folded her arms across her chest, trapping the folder behind them.  
  
“I need to do what is best for your brother, and, right now, that means making sure I know everything I can about his condition. I need room to work and you-” She stopped at a sudden burst of noise from the main office room, Ianto looking back and nodding.  
  
“Big, we need you out here anyway. The team is back, and there's a few things I need to bring you all up to speed on. Plus, we may be able to find out more information about what's going on and help Noddy.”  
  
Looking torn, the young man glanced between them before nodding and standing up, giving his brother's hand one more squeeze before heading for the door. By the time it closed behind them, Grace had already almost forgotten they were there, already washing and gloving up ready to work, as Tom opened up their bags behind them. Ready, she turned back to her patient and took a deep breath.  
  
Time to see what they had dragged her out of bed for...  
  
  
**************************************** ******  
  
Ianto pulled the door to the medical room closed behind him and looked up as Johnson's team clustered together on one side, the new arrivals quizzing the others about Noddy's condition. Cassie and Lois were off to one side, conversing nervously and looking at the locked armoury door, their spy safely contained behind it. He knew they were waiting to follow his lead on how to handle this, how to deal with the traitor in their custody.  
  
The question was, would either of them forgive him for it.  
  
Raising his voice, Ianto called everyone over, settling them into a loose group around the end of the room, as far from the locked conference room as possible. He didn't want to scare the others locked in there quite yet, they would be freaked enough as it was by now.  
  
“The doctors are with Noddy now,” Ianto began. “He is in good hands. But there's something you need to know.”  
  
“Where is everybody?” Johnson asked, her arms folded across her chest. “The technicians, the geeks, did you send them home when the power went?”  
  
“Actually, they're all still here. The technicians are locked in the conference room-” Ianto waited as a ripple of whispers and surprise went round the room, “and Deborah Reynolds is locked in the Armoury.”  
  
“What?” John exclaimed, shaking his head. “Why?”  
  
“She's the spy,” Ianto said simply. “She's been leaking information about us to the outside, and we believe that tonight she tipped them off that you were all going back to that house.”  
  
“You mean she's the reason my brother's in a coma?” Big Ears yelled. “She set us up?”  
  
“Yes.” Ianto waited until the noise calmed down then spoke again. “Cassie and I have tried talking to her, but we haven't been able to get anything out of her, all she will say is she is the spy and then nothing useful.”  
  
“Have you tried asking nicely?” John asked sarcastically.  
  
“As forcefully as I can,” Ianto admitted, shaking his head, “but I'll be honest, she and I both know it's just an empty threat, that I won't really hurt her.”  
  
“What about drugs?” Ben suggested.  
  
“We don't have anything here that would be strong enough,” Lois called out, her hands tightening against the edge of the desk she was leaning on as everyone turned to look. “Not that we can get hold of quickly anyway.”  
  
“This is bullshit,” Big Ears exclaimed, shaking his head. “Just hold a gun to her fucking head and get her to talk!”  
  
“Oh please,” John muttered, “do you seriously think that ever works? What do you do if she doesn't talk, shoot her? Kinda hard to come back from that.”  
  
“What do you suggest then, Captain?” Big Ears sneered. “Bribe her?”  
  
“Might work,” he said seriously, “but it's not very reliable, not at this point anyway, once she's broken maybe. Look, we need to find out who she's working for, what they know, we need to figure out where they are, and what they did to Noddy.” Shrugging, he stared at Ianto, his face deadly serious. “Just give me five minutes with her and I'll find out.”  
  
“What will you do?” Cassie asked, aghast at the anger in the room and the implications of what they were saying.  
  
John laughed hollowly and grinned, a feral, vicious smirk, containing such joy that it sent shivers up Ianto's spine at the realisation that he had truly forgotten just what Captain John Hart was capable of. He had gotten used to the tamer version of himself that John portrayed when he was here, his past hidden and his baser instincts held back, but Ianto knew better - or at least he  _should_  have. You could harness a man like Hart for a short time, control him with money, or power, or even sex, but only for as long as it suited him. Ianto could pay John to fight, to work and help them, but this, this he was offering to do for free.  
  
This he was offering to do for the fun of it. And that was far too dangerous.  
  
Turning to face Cassie, John shrugged but kept up the grin, his eyes flashing in the torchlight. “Better you don't know sweetheart.”  
  
“No!” she cried out, indignant. “I will not be a party to torture, Ianto you can't-”  
  
Big Ears rounded on her, his stout size not exactly menacing, but the sheer fiery anger coming from him making her step back. “Forget your bloody bleeding heart, and forget him, if she knows what's happened to my brother, then just give me two minutes with her and I'll get it out and you can send whatever is left off to hell-”  
  
“Oh, so beating someone up is the best way to get to the truth, thanks for enlightening me,” Cassie retorted, hands on her hips as her voice rose. “Excuse me whilst I just go call my boss, 'hi sir, turns out we've been wasting time learning how to read people, next time just kneecap them it's quicker'-”  
  
“Your fucking Jedi mind tricks didn't find out who it was before anyone got hurt, so yeah, I say you step aside and let someone else take charge for a bit-”  
  
“Over my dead body, I will not let you near her!”  
  
“Enough!” Ianto yelled at last. “Will you all just calm down. Thank you for expressing your views quite so eloquently,” he continued, slamming his hands down on the table, sarcasm dripping from every word, “but the decision is not yours, Cassie, and it is none of yours either, the decision is mine, understood? It's my call, and my responsibility, and I am getting pissed off with having to remind you all of that every five minutes! Cassie don't you dare start,” he added, raising a hand to cut her off, “or so help me I'll drag you back to the airport myself.” Blowing out a slow breath, he nodded, his decision made. “We have to know what, if anything, she knows. And we have to do whatever it takes to make her talk.”  
  
John nodded, moving towards the door to her makeshift cell before Ianto's hand shot out, snagging his arm. “No. Not  _you_ . Jack.”  
  
Jack looked up from his perch against one of the desks, his face dark. “Me? You want  _me_  to interrogate her?”  
  
“You.”  
  
“Him?” John sputtered. “Oh come on, he wasn't even that good at it when it was actually his job!”  
  
“Jack,” Ianto said over him, all his attention on Jack, ignoring everyone else in the room and just hoping that he wasn't making a huge mistake. In so many ways. “Please.”  
  
“Why me?”  
  
“Because Big Ears will kill her, John will destroy her and enjoy it far too much-”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“-and because I  _know_  you know what to do. I know who you are Jack, I know what you're capable of.” Ianto kept his gaze fixed on Jack, not quite able to believe what he was asking of him. It was one thing to have Jack die for him, another to kill, but to do this? “I know you can do this, quickly, and that's one reason why it has to be you. But most of all it has to be you, because you're the only person I trust to get what we need and not go too far.”  
  
“Ianto,” Jack whispered, shaking his head, almost pleading, “you can't ask me to do this.”  
  
“That's good, because I'm not,” Ianto said smoothly, staring at Jack and not even blinking as he put every ounce of strength into his voice that he could, channelling every single memory he could of Jack being in his place; the feel of a gun held to his head, and a voice hissing  _'you execute her'_  in the blood red Hub. Ianto hadn't understood then, not until a long time afterwards. He just hoped that Jack wouldn't take that long to forgive him in turn. Taking a deep breath, Ianto forced his face into a blank mask, aware of Cassie watching him closely. “I'm not asking you, Jack. I'm ordering you.”  
  
“You're  _ordering_  me?” Jack echoed defiantly. “And if I refuse, what?”  
  
Ianto folded his arms across his chest, partly to give himself strength, but partly to hide the tremble he could feel in his hands. Was he really doing this? “Then this is never going to work.”  
  
“Which bit? Me working for you, or me being with you?”  
  
“Either,” Ianto said simply, shaking his head, and knowing in his heart it was the truth, that if Jack refused him now, he had to make a choice he really didn't want to. “I trust you, Jack, with all my heart, and I need you to trust me now. I need to know you can follow my lead when I need you to. I need you to do this, I can't- We need to know what she knows and you are the only person here who she hasn't been able to research, who won't get distracted by already knowing her or get carried away and make it personal or about Noddy-”  
  
“It wouldn't be personal with me,” John added sarkily, “I'd quite happily rip her legs off like a spider just for the theft, let alone for getting the pretty kid messed up, but it wouldn't be personal, strictly business-”  
  
“John, for the love of God will you just shut up!” Ianto snapped at last as he yelled, pointing at him. “I have had just about all I can take from you right now, John, and I swear if you don't shut up-”  
  
“I'll do it,” Jack said quietly.  
  
“-it will be  _my_  turn to shoot you to save your life, you-”  
  
“I said, I'll do it!” Jack roared, stepping forward and placing his hand on Ianto's arm to get his attention. As Ianto turned to him, he forced a small, tight, smile onto his face and shrugged. “You're right. It has to be me.”  
  
“I'll go with him,” Cassie said, stepping forwards to join Jack, making Ianto jump in surprise. “Whatever you plan to do, you'll need help to make sure she's not lying just to stop whatever it is you intend to do to her. I do  _not_  support what you are doing Ianto, and this is the last time I am ever doing anything for you, is that crystal clear?” He nodded slowly, staring at her. “But if you are going to do this, maybe I can at least make sure it's as clean and quick as possible.”  
  
“Agreed,” Ianto said softly, his gaze flicking from them to the door to the armoury. “You'd better get in there.” Jack slipped off his coat and folded it neatly before handing it to Ianto. “And thank you.”  
  
“Don't thank me now,” Jack said, visibly steeling himself for the task ahead. “Thank me after you see what I have to do.”   
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Cassie swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the door handle as they drew close, everything prepared inside and ready for them, even Debs. All that remained now was-  
  
What? Torture? Interrogation?  
  
“Jack...”  
  
“If you don't want to do this you can walk away, right now,” he whispered back, his words harsh but a softness to his tone and she caught a flash of something on his face in the reflected torchlight. Pain. Remorse. He didn't want to do this either, and for some reason that gave her hope. “Once this starts, I can't have any interruptions, if you are in, you are in to the end, no bathroom breaks, no fresh air, so you'd better be sure before you walk through this door, because if not I can do it alone.”  
  
“You shouldn't have to,” she admitted, “I should have been able to spot her sooner, Big Ears is right, I-”  
  
Shaking his head, Jack held his arm across the door in front of her, blocking her way. “Cassie, listen to me. I need you to understand this before we go in there. This is not your fault. Whatever happens in there, it is not your fault, you are not the one who caused this, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. She is going to beg, she is going to scream, and you are going to want to help her because you're a good person.” He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers and sizing her up in a way she wasn't used to. Normally she was the one doing the staring.   
  
“Whatever you do,” he said, “do not say anything in there. Do not respond to her. Do not react. Do  _nothing_ , no good cop, no stool pigeon, nothing at all. Just watch her face and if she starts to crack, when we start getting the truth, I want you to take off your scarf.”  
  
“Take off my scarf?”  
  
“Yeah, it has to be something I can spot easily, plus that way she can see your scar, bring home the fact that we're not people to mess with.”  
  
“You want to use my  _scar_  to scare her?”  
  
“You got a problem with that?”  
  
Cassie hesitated, completely unsure. This was far outside her training, everything she knew...  
  
“I don't know,” she admitted. To her surprise, Jack laughed and nodded to her, a small smile on his face. “Who are you Jack Harkness? Captain Hart said this, torture, used to be your job, Lila talked about you like you were her childhood hero, you abandoned us all from Torchwood One, you had a reputation as a complete tart, but here, now, you and Ianto-”  
  
“What?”  
  
She hesitated. “I've never seen two people so terrified of their own feelings as the pair of you. And I've never seen two people I was more sure truly cared about each other. But I know him, he's a good man, and I just can't believe he would sanction this-”  
  
Jack shook his head quickly, a soft chuckle sounding as he looked at her curiously. “You know the real difference between the actions of a villain and a hero?” She shook her head and he continued. “Very little. A villain can hurt others, injure, kill, and yeah, even torture them. And a hero can do exactly the same things. The difference isn't the action, it's the intent.” Looking at the door, he shook his head. “I wasn't always a good man Cassie, but I can tell you Ianto is. An evil man, or even a little psychopath like John would walk into this room and do what I'm about to do because he enjoys it, because he wants to. That he gets something useful like information out of it would just be a side effect.”  
  
“But a good man, like Ianto, he would walk into this room and do it, or order it to be done, because it has to be. He won't enjoy it, Hell I bet he won't ever really forgive himself for it either, but he will do it because it has to be done, because there's a greater good at stake.”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Cassie shook her head slowly. “I also had you cast as the villain, Jack. Ianto looks at you like you're some kind of hero. I don't know what to think any more.”  
  
“That's as good a place to start as any,” Jack shrugged. “Come on, we've got a job to do.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.”  
> William Blake

Ianto wasn't sure what was worse; knowing what Jack was up to behind that door, or imagining based on the few muffled sounds that emerged. It had been three hours already, the witching hour fast approaching, and everyone in the office was tense: the soldiers were gathered around Big Ears, their presence offering him support whilst keeping him balanced and stopping him charging in there himself. Ianto had spent his time sitting by the window, the blue moonlight showing up the lighter threads of denim in his jeans, the scuff over one knee and the shimmer of the buttons on his rolled up shirt cuffs. It was cold in the room, his back chilled from the draught of air cooled by the glass falling down over him, yet he stayed still, just watching the shadows move slowly across the floor.  
  
Finally he stood, stretching out tired and stiff muscles, his knee complaining yet again. As he worked through the aches, he glanced round the room, checking on the others. John kept glancing at the armoury door and the clock, a small smile on his lips when he thought no one was looking. Johnson had her team corralled in one corner, a loose group sat or lying on the floor and whispering to each other or trying to sleep, the odd smile and chuckle suggesting they were keeping their spirits up just fine.  
  
Lois on the other hand had dragged the big armchair out of her office and curled up in it, her torch off but the light of others in the office letting him see the glint of her eyes as she stared at the armoury doors. She looked as though she was going to be sick, her hand wrapped across her stomach and her face somehow off, and Ianto drifted closer to her.  
  
“You okay?” He whispered as he crouched down beside her chair. Lois nodded her head before shaking it, her braids catching the torch light and casting strange medusa like shadows over the wall.  
  
“I'll be fine,” she lied, “I just... Interrogation isn't exactly a word that brings back happy memories.” She winced as a high pitched squeal escaped the door. “Although it was never like  _that_ , just the normal spot light and good cop, bad cop, bit.”  
  
“You going to get through this?” Lois glanced at the medical room, the door wide open and the lights in there spilling out into the main office, the faint shadows of the two doctors inside drifting slowly in and out of view.  
  
“When I think of what she did...” Nodding firmly, Lois' mouth tightened into a thin line. “She brought this on herself. She had plenty of chances to do the right thing and she didn't.” Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself tighter. “I just hope Jack can-”  
  
She stopped as the door to the armoury opened and everyone stirred, the torch beams all shifting to it, more coming on as people woke up or switched theirs on again. Everyone watched as Cassie came out, her face ashen. She found Ianto's gaze, her eyes tormented but strong as she nodded, unable to speak. Hurrying over, Ianto wrapped an arm around her and guided her to his office. Handing her a torch, he gently helped her inside.   
  
Pulling the door to behind them, Ianto watched as she hurried to his chair and collapsed into it, resting her head on her hands, before suddenly reaching for his bin and coughing into it, her body shaking with the move.   
  
“Cassie, you-”  
  
She waved her hand at him distractedly, her face twisted as she pulled up again. “Go. You need to-” She ducked back down again, a fresh wave of coughing wracking her body as her food from the past day hurried out of her body. When she was finished, she looked up, fumbling in her pockets for a notepad, her handwriting covering several pages. “I tried to catch all the important details-” Shaking her head, she pushed the notebook across the desk, and dipped her head back down again, coughing.  
  
Slipping to her side, Ianto slid open a drawer and pulled out an unopened bottle of water . Putting it on the desk beside her, he brushed a hand over her hair softly. “Thank you.”  
  
“Just go. Please. I need to be alone.”  
  
Nodding, Ianto grabbed the notebook and almost ran back out again, pulling the door closed behind him to give her some privacy. He strode into the main office then slowed as he approached the armoury door, afraid of what he might see inside.  
  
Jack was in the doorway, his hands resting on the frame, and Ianto was surprised by the fact that his fingers were pale and clean. Ianto wasn't what he had been expecting, but he just knew it wasn't for Jack to look so normal; there should be some sign, some trace of what he had done, what Ianto had made him do, some damn spot for him to have to wash out, a constant reminder-  
  
There. There it was, in Jack's eyes, the slightly haunted stare as he straightened up, pushing whatever demon it was away. Jack stepped out and pulled the door closed behind himself, but not before Ianto caught a glimpse of a curled up shape in the corner of the room, a dark shadow almost silhouetted by the reflected glow on the metal.  
  
“Jack...”  
  
“What did she say?” Big Ears called out, unable to stand it any more. “Can she help Sammy?”  
  
Jack walked slowly forwards, sinking onto one of the stools and leaning heavily on the worktop. “Yes and no. There's nothing medical that can be done. To help him and the others we need to kill the creature that attacked them, it's a psychic link, it has to be broken, and then they  _should_  all wake up.”  
  
“A creature? What is it?” Johnson asked quickly, her face stern and her mind obviously going through their inventory of weapons, trying to find the right one for whatever they were facing.  
  
“They don't know a proper name for it, but they call it the Peuchen. From what she described, I think it's some sort of psychic scavenger, probably-” He broke off before looking up, his gaze finding Ianto's, guilt in his eyes. “There's a species that comes from the Wraitheen's home planet that I've heard about, it's like the Wraitheen in that it's not always fully corporeal, but there is also a physical element to it, like a, a tether, keeping it in this dimension. You hear about them in ghost stories about abandoned ships drifting in space. What we perceive is like a, a projection, an astral body.”  
  
Ianto closed his eyes and tilted his head back. The Wraitheen,  _Jack's_  messengers. “So it could have got on planet from one of their ships?”  
  
“Yes, but it needed to have had help after that, see these creatures- The Wraitheen's home planet has very little sunlight, it's pretty much perpetual night down there, except for a strip around the equator. And whilst the Wraitheen evolved to not be affected by sunlight, chose to settle in the sunlight, these creatures are incredibly photosensitive, they literally can't stand sunlight. Artificial light hurts them too, and if you think about this planet, streetlights, car headlights, even down to little led standby lights on your TV, how often is it truly dark any more?”  
  
“Only on a blackout,” Ianto said softly.   
  
“Exactly. Debs has been working for this, uh, this fence, Daniel Quinn, he's a trader, a dealer of sorts. He collects aliens and artefacts and technology and sells them on, steals to order, and has clients he sells things to, a whole list of private collectors. He stole the bodies from our archives for some big American client, she doesn't know who, but he's powerful. She also passed him other things too, some of the blueprints we had in archives from the Valiant, the formula for Retcon-”  
  
“A private collector and a fence have Retcon?” Ianto said quickly, frowning. “It takes weeks to process, even we haven't been able to make more than an emergency supply yet, how far could they have gotten?”  
  
“Oh they have the resources,” Jack added with a shake of his head. “They've been approaching possible people they can buy technology off for some time, always subtly, but we're lucky, out of our current lot only Reed and she actually took him up on the offer.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes,” Jack said bitterly, rubbing his hands across his face. “We double checked. She was telling the truth. A couple of our older employees need hauling in, and UNIT have some work to do, but this current team is clear.”  
  
“Great, but what about the creature?” Big Ears pushed again, coming forwards to lean against the worktable opposite Jack. “How do we kill it? How do we save Sammy?”  
  
“Our sunlight is lethal to it” Jack continued, “so they suspect it was hiding in the sewers.”  
  
“We've noticed the Weevils aren't as bad as they were prior to the destruction of the Hub,” Ianto offered, “if they were being hunted for a while this thing might have wiped out a few nests or scared the others, made them more cautious than usual.”  
  
“Maybe. They don't know how long it's been on planet, but then, during a blackout, it came out and, she isn't sure how it happened, but it ended up with our fence. He's been training it, working with it, using the blackouts to let it out to feed, to hunt. But it's weak when it's far from its body; close by it can attack anyone at all, no problem.” Jack paused, shaking his head. “But this guy is  _making_  it go further and further afield, stretching it out, and it can't just attack anyone at random in this state. It's weakened, so in turn this thing preys on the weak, the ill, normal awake minds are too strong for it, unless it feels directly threatened, it needs people in a different state of consciousness, half asleep-”  
  
“Drugged,” Big Ears said quickly.  
  
“Exactly,” Jack stood up and began to move, almost seeming to revive as he began to push aside the interrogation and focus on what he had learned. “That house, it's a giant test tube, they use the gas pipes to pump something into the rooms, then kill the lights and let it feast, let it pick its targets. They're testing how much gas they need, now far it can go, training it to follow the gas like a hound after a trail, to go where they want it to go.”  
  
“Why does it affect some people more than others?” Ben asked, glancing at Big Ears. “Even with equal exposure? Like the girl who was taken ill at the house, there were other people in the room, why her?”  
  
“It's the psychic link,” Jack said quickly, gesturing with his hands as he strode around the room, moving from one speaker to another as they questioned him. “The infrasound vibrations it gives out are like sonar in bats, it triggers strong fear responses in people and it uses that to find its victims, hones in on their fears. But just like distracting yourself from a bad memory by keeping busy, the more alert you are the more you can ignore the effects.”  
  
“See, this thing, it thrives on powerful emotions, strong feelings, hate, fear, terror, lust, the most basic and base instincts, the girl, there must have been something in her past that terrified her whereas the other kids didn't have that experience-”  
  
“She was attacked as a teenager,” Lois volunteered, her hand half rising before she lowered it again, her memory dredging up the information she had read earlier like a bubble rising up through water to break through the surface. “A man tried to grab her and drag her into a van. She fought him for several minutes before they were disturbed and he ran off.”  
  
“Traumatic experience,” Jack snapped his fingers and strode towards her, “that video, the guy from the hospital-”  
  
“There was something he wasn't telling us,” Lois agreed, “he was evasive about it and wouldn't say anything about what he saw but it terrified him. Nothing showed up in his file so whatever it was it must have not been reported or not been a crime as such.”  
  
“And Sammy,” Big Ears said quietly, Jack still at last as he turned to regard the soldier. “He had the memory of being beaten half to death by his own father whilst his mother just watched.”  
  
Ianto closed his eyes, wishing he could find it hard to believe that any parent could do that. Instead he clung on to the thought of Gwen holding her daughter, of Rhi with her two, of every single good parent he knew and tried to keep the thought going in his head like a mantra or spell; they are the norm, the bad ones are the exception, it's normal to love your kids no matter what, it's normal-  
  
“So if it's a traumatic memory,” Ianto said at last, forcing his eyes open. He was slightly disconcerted to find Jack staring straight at him, as though he had known what was going on in Ianto's head. “Combined with an altered state of consciousness, a lack of light-”  
  
Big Ears frowned, shaking his head. “Wait, we had torches, we were still attacked-”  
  
“But the concentration of the gas must also have been, I don't know, at least ten times as strong as it was the other night too,” Jack said quickly, moving again, finally snapping his eyes away from Ianto. “Tonight was an attack, a directed hit, they knew we were coming and they, they've been training this creature, abusing it, forcing it to go to certain places, they forced it to come after us, even when the light was hurting it, but  _just hurting_ -” Jack smacked his hand against a worktable for emphasis.   
  
“It wasn't enough to kill it, they knew that, they forced it to stay there just long enough to attack us then withdraw again. See that's the thing with this creature, it's invincible in its non corporeal state but its physical body, that's vulnerable. Usually it would never stray far from its body, but they've been forcing it to go further and further, pushing it-” He paused and became still again, his eyes flicking to Ianto before settling on Johnson. “They've been training it to go from being a scavenger into a hunter. Just think about it, an assassin who can literally go anywhere you want it to. All you have to do is,” he snapped his fingers, “turn out the lights.”  
  
“The creature,” Lois asked quietly, her arms folded across her stomach. “Can it be saved? Can we just send it home?”  
  
There was a derisive sound and a chorus of protests from the soldiers, which Johnson cut off with a wave of her hand. Jack shook his head slowly. “No. They've been torturing it, it's half crazy, rabid. The only way to help it is to put it down.”  
  
“Can the Wraitheen help?” Ianto asked. “Do we have any way to contact them?”  
  
“No,” Jack admitted, shaking his head again. “They don't come out this far usually, they only came here at all because of me,” he looked guilty and shrugged. “I paid extra. They won't be back this way again.” Taking a deep breath, Jack sat down on one of the stools, almost missing it, and Ianto finally noticed the fatigue in his body, the sheer effort and strength that had been taken from him.  
  
“Let's take a break for a couple of minutes, Lois, here's Cassie's notebook, see what you can pull from that and start thinking research clues. Big, go check on your brother and ask Tom if he can go into the armoury and make sure Debs is okay-” He held up his hand as Big began to snarl something and shook his head sharply. “Just do it. Everyone else, just... just give us some space.”  
  
Obediently, his team dispersed, drifting around the room aimlessly, but he didn't care any more, his attention all on Jack. Jack looked old, far older than his body normally showed, his face somehow closer to his true age tonight.  
  
“Jack,” he said softly, then stopped as John came over. Without speaking, John slipped a hip flask from his pocket and handed it to Jack with a small smile. Accepting it gratefully, Jack twisted the cap off and took a long pull from it, his body shaking slightly with the burn of the alcohol. Offering it back to John, the other man shook his head.  
  
“Just give it back when it's empty.”  
  
“Thank you.” Drifting away again, John gave Ianto a long stare before turning to find Johnson, giving them some privacy.  
  
“Jack-” Ianto started.  
  
“Please don't.”  
  
“I'm sorry.”  
  
“No,” Jack said softly, “you're not.”  
  
Ianto stiffened, but nodded, pulling up a stool opposite Jack. “You're right, I'm not. What you've found out so far we could never have gotten another way. This had to be done.”  
  
“She was pretty strong,” Jack whispered, “they'd prepared her a little, given her some interrogation training, but she expected us to go straight from a bit of slapping around to prison, retcon, or the kill, all their 'profiling' said you would never resort to serious torture.”  
  
“I guess they didn't know me as well as they thought they did.”  
  
“True. But also, they don't know about me or John at all. They had no idea what... resources you have at your disposal.” Jack couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice and Ianto tried to stop the wince from showing on his face, but he could feel his eyes twist with it, showing his pain.  
  
“Or that I would use you.”  
  
“Yeah.” Jack took another long drink and they sat in silence, just listening to the sounds of the others drifting around them. The scattered torch beams sent strange shadows across the room as though they were on a night journey, streetlights flashing through their window. “Johnson was worried about that you know.”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“That you would be able to order me around.” Jack laughed, his head ducking down for a second as he shrugged. “In a work sense anyway,” he admitted, making Ianto chuckle in reply. “She thought you wouldn't be able to handle putting me in jeopardy, watching me suffer.” Looking up again, his eyes were red rimmed as he stared at Ianto. “I wish I could say it was something I'd never do either, but truth is I've done it so many times already I'm amazed it's taken you this long to pay me back.”  
  
“I don't need to pay you back for anything,” Ianto said quickly, “I knew the job.”  
  
“For the record, the job sucks.”  
  
“It really does.” Laughing softly, they smiled reluctantly at each other before Ianto reached out and placed his hands lightly either side of Jack's face. “And for the record, if there had been any other way-”  
  
Jack nodded, almost awkwardly pushing forward on the stool to brush Ianto's lips in a lopsided kiss, his tiredness and the alcohol starting to make him just a little bit uncoordinated. But Ianto's hands were there, guiding him, tilting his head back and to the side just enough to line them up properly, Ianto shifting easily to catch his mouth, pressing tenderly against his lips. It was almost innocent, just a press of a kiss, but it was more than enough for them. It was all they needed, apology and acceptance, forgiveness and permission, all exchanged in the press of skin and the touch of Jack's palm against Ianto's thigh and the hands guiding his face in return.  
  
The whole room, the whole world, the mission, the creature, the spy, it all faded away for just a few seconds, everything going silent and peaceful. It was over too soon, Jack pulling back and letting his head rest against Ianto's. The pressure was almost uncomfortable as Ianto took the strain, his neck protesting a little, but he bore it without even noticing. It was words unspoken and now no longer needing to be said. Jack finally lifted his head back, and Ianto let his hands slide down again, resting lightly on Jack's shoulders.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“I will be,” Jack nodded, and there was more strength in his voice now, more determination in his body, as though he had recharged himself with Ianto.   
  
“Take a few more minutes, I'll go see how Lois is doing with the notes, then we can get back to it.” Slipping off the stool, Ianto brushed his hand over Jack's hair before kissing the top of his head, his touch gentle and lingering as he slid away and left Jack alone in the dark.  
  
************************************  
  
“Okay,” Ianto said slowly, his mind whirring with the information from the notes, bringing the group back to order. “So, we're dealing with a creature that doesn't like the light, doesn't have a physical body most of the time, uses Infrasound to hunt for likely, preferably weakened, victims, then attacks their minds and leaves them in comas. To kill it then, we need to locate or force the physical part of the creature's body to manifest, without being attacked by the psychic part, and kill it, with, what?”  
  
“Direct sunlight is best-” Jack added, the flask supplemented with a bottle of water now as he sat perched on his stool.  
  
“Too bad we're in Cardiff,” Bill muttered.  
  
“-That would be a clean kill,” Jack continued, “but strong enough UV should do the trick. If we could make up some sort of container, almost like a portable sunbed, and trap the creature then turn on the light, that should be a quick kill.”  
  
“What about if we can't trap it?” Johnson asked, shaking her head. “It's all very well to talk about putting down a sick animal, but you don't approach a rabid dog with a chew toy and a collar, you shoot it before it rips your throat out.”  
  
“Bright, preferably UV torches should help keep it off us, we should be safe as long as we have light and can keep ourselves completely awake and-”  
  
“Other people,” John said, interrupting. “This is gonna sound nuts, but I felt something like the creature as I was... in an altered state of consciousness,” a soft snigger from somewhere amongst the soldiers made him bow his head in acknowledgement, “but I instinctively reached out and grabbed someone, I felt like I  _needed_  more skin on skin contact, it was purely instinctive, and as soon as I had it, the feeling faded.”  
  
“Most of the victims were completely alone,” Lois added. “Except for the girl.”  
  
“She was apart from the others,” Big Ears said quickly, nodding to himself. “She had rolled over to one side of the room, I couldn't work out who she was with at first because she was on her own.”  
  
“Skin to skin contact,” John said with a shrug. “Might help.”  
  
“You're suggesting I go into a firefight doing what, holding fucking hands and thinking happy thoughts?” Bill snorted, “think I'll take my chances on the torches.”  
  
“Can we counteract the Infrasound at all?” Johnson asked, “if we can stop it using the sounds to hunt for us we would have an advantage.”  
  
“Short of carrying a church organ in your back pocket, no,” John said quickly, “not with contemporary technology, not that we can rig up in under a week and carry with us anyway, especially with no power.”  
  
“Who says we won't have power?” Ben said quickly.  
  
“Turns out this fence, Quinn, has influence,” Jack explained, settling back against the worktable and folding his arms across his chest. “The power company  _does_  need to have blackouts, that is completely true, but the timings and schedule was influenced by our collectors, and tonight's unscheduled one was their doing.” Sighing he leaned back and unfolded his arms to rest on the table behind him. “Turns out, they started it on her signal so they could attack us, and are waiting for her to report in before they switch it back on again.”  
  
“That could be a problem,” Ianto said simply, forever the master of understatement. “How long will they wait?”  
  
“If she doesn't report in within,” Jack glanced up at the clock, “the next two hours they will assume the whole operation has been compromised and start shutting everything down. Starting off with disposing of the evidence.”  
  
“Evidence?” Lois asked.  
  
“The victims,” Ianto guessed, seeing Jack nod. “All the coma patients.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“Do you think you can persuade her to check in without tipping them off?”  
  
“She's agreed to help us in exchange for leniency.”  
  
“Leniency?!” Big Ears yelled, Ben reflexively grabbing him to hold him back, wrapping his arms over Big's chest. “She put my brother in a coma-”  
  
“Leniency. Retcon. Not death, not me throwing her in a room with you and John and locking the door, not us disposing of her body in a car crash or an explosion or something else that will cover the fact that you tore her apart, so yeah, leniency” Jack yelled over him, his eyes finding Ianto's and seeing understanding there. “We take back the last couple of years, ever since she left Uni and started at the Mr Copper Foundation, give her a new ID and let her go.”  
  
“She just gets off scot free?” Big Ears roared, Bill grabbing his arm to help Ben hold him. “What the fuck kind of justice is that?”  
  
“The only justice we've got, revenge won't help,” Ianto said quickly, stepping forward to hold Big Ears' shoulders and staring into his eyes. “She is a lost cause and going back a year won't stop that and believe me, we will make sure the rest of her life is one long line of unfulfilled promise and she won't even know why her life means nothing.”  
  
“That's not enough.”  
  
“It will have to be,” Ianto said softly. “Or we will lose our chance to find that creature and save Sam.”  
  
The mention of his brother's name seemed to focus him and he stopped fighting, Bill and Ben gradually loosening their grips until he shook them off and stood upright. “I think I prefer our way,” he said coldly, straightening his clothing and his eyes dark as they stared back at Ianto. “But we'll do it your way.”  
  
“Thank you.” Ianto whispered quietly before turning away and starting to make his way back over to Jack, his eyes firmly locked on his own feet. “Right, we need more information first, Jack, what else-” He stopped as his office door opened and Cassie slipped out again to rejoin them, her face still slightly grey in places, but she gave him a tight smile as she pulled the door closed. He was vaguely aware of Lois slipping over to join her, a brief whispered conversation taking place before Lois moved off to the kitchen. Satisfied that Cassie was taken care of, he turned his attention back to Jack again.  
  
“Jack, the creature, tell me we know where it is?”  
  
“Yes and no, it's being held in a warehouse along with the rest of the alien bodies that haven't been sold on to collectors. They've been doing some sort of research on them, analysing them, like the pharm but,” Jack's mouth twisted harshly, “with a less altruistic aim. Forget medicine, these guys are after anything they can get, weapons, poisons, whatever they can sell they'll have it. She isn't sure where it is, but it's out towards Port Talbot, that's why they chose the abandoned house for testing, it's close enough that the creature isn't overstretched.”  
  
“Can we get a more accurate location, or hunt it down? What about the power supply needed, it must still be a huge drain?”  
  
“I can check with Dave,” Lois said as she passed back through the room, a glass of juice in her hands which she passed to Cassie. “He has been tracing power drains and unusual energy needs, he may be able to narrow it down more.”  
  
“Once we get closer than a couple of miles I might be able to track it with this,” Jack said, patting his wrist strap, “now I know more about it I should be able to hone in on the infrasound. Just have to watch the weather and look out for wind turbines,” he added with a wry smile.  
  
“Okay, so-”  
  
“But that's not the only place they have a stronghold,” Jack held up his hand to stop Ianto in his tracks. “The coma patients have been taken to that new private hospital, this fence basically owns his own wing there, all his... leftovers are taken there, disposed of and hidden. If we kill the creature, they will wake up and have to be taken care of.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Ben asked quietly. “They have been in comas, they aren't witnesses, they haven't seen anything? What will they do?”  
  
“This lot don't take any chances. They've only kept the victims alive this long as it is to assess the creature's effectiveness, see why some of the patients are affected more quickly, more deeply than others. They're experimenting, seeing how they can perfect the creature's attacks until they become fatal. But the people who are already sick are just guinea pigs, they don't care about the patients, they only took them to play with and keep anyone else from helping them. And if they start to come out of their comas, they've planted something in the life support system to trigger an alert and they will send in their own team to wipe them out.”  
  
Ianto could hear a general gasp of horror in the room and was surprised to find it loudest from the hardened soldiers. But it was the sound from the door to the medical room that caught his attention the most as he hadn't realised they were being watched.  
  
“What sort of doctor would go along with this?” Tom asked quietly, his face blank but something fierce in his eyes. “What sort of monster would sell his patients lives off to the highest bidder?”  
  
“They don't all know, just the top layers and the Doctor directly involved,” Jack said, shaking his head. “The rest just think they're being paid to take care of sick people. They don't ask, and no one is going to tell.”  
  
“So they just, what, they turn a blind eye and go along with this? And if you try to stop this carrying on, if you kill the creature, they kill off the people they've already attacked?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Ianto admitted, “but we're going to do everything we can to prevent it. That's what we do.”  
  
“What Martha did,” Tom said simply, his tone flat but the question implied.  
  
“Yes.” Ianto nodded. “And she was very good at it.”  
  
The silence that hung between them was tense, the men staring each other out until Lois finally interrupted, a slight air of exasperation to her move.  
  
“Okay, so we need to kill the creature and we have to stop them killing the patients. We need to be at the warehouse place and the hospital. That's doable.”  
  
“And then there's the fence himself.” Jack straightened up. “Now,  _him_  we can find.”  
  
“Where,” Ianto asked quickly, surprised to find himself clenching his fists. “Where is he?”  
  
“Here in Cardiff. The rift attracted him here, he has an office at Cardiff Gate, up in the Business Park.”  
  
“An office.”   
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Makes a change from back alley shops or hollowed out asteroids or stealth ships,” John said with a sniff, “gotta miss the good old days, villains knew how to be villains then. You remember that guy, big blue guy, owned a bar, I once-”  
  
“Not. Now.” Ianto spat out shaking his head as he tried to assimilate all the information. “Three targets, the aliens, the patients, and the fence. And the one we really need is the one we can't find.  
  
“So, what's the plan?” Big Ears asked, his head jerking from one person to another before finally settling on Ianto again. “If I'm going to watch that little bitch walk free, there had better be a good plan.”  
  
Ianto paused, his head rising to take in Jack watching him. Jack shrugged just slightly and shook his head. He had nothing. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Johnson fingering her weapon in its holster, John beside her, his fingers flexing lightly. They were ready to fight.   
  
Lois looked scared but determined, but he knew she was no fighter, most of their team wasn't, they were just geeks and youngsters, kids, they were just normal-  
  
Snapping his head up fully, Ianto turned back to Big Ears, a grin forming on his face before fading a little as he took in the enormity of the challenge – and the size of the team in front of him. This wasn't going to work unless he had a full staff, or at least enough or a range of skills to make this work. He needed his team back.  
  
He needed Torchwood.  
  
“There's a plan,” he said quickly, nodding as he stepped forward and grinned, honestly grinning for what felt like the first time in days. “But I don't know if we have enough people to make it work...” Trailing off, he looked at the conference room door, then back at the Armoury. “Jack, get her to check in, then bring her out here.” Looking at Big Ears again, he stood up straighter and nodded once. “She's made her choice about working here. It's time everyone else did too.”  
  
  
**************************************  
  
“Get them all out here,” Ianto ordered coldly, watching as Debs was propped up in the chair in the middle of the room, several torches pointed on her face. There were bruises forming already, but not the general swathe of a random attack. For some reason, the sheer precision and neatness of the marks was more terrifying than if her face had been swollen or beyond recognition.   
  
There was a trail of bruises along her temples and two larger ones by her eyes and he could see one forming under her chin too. Her clothes were all perfectly intact, her hair was loose around her face, but as her head swayed he could see more bruises at the base of her skull and along her neck under her hair.   
  
He had somehow expected more blood, or for there to be some obvious sign of- Well, something. Instead she simply looked as though she had had sooty fingers and brushed them against her face. If it wasn't for the glazed look in her eyes and the eyeliner tear trails he could almost believe nothing had happened to her.  
  
Jack, on the other hand, looked tired, his energy spent for now and the full weight of his actions hitting him now the adrenaline of their discoveries was fading. He was sat still in a dark corner of the office, his coat back on for warmth, barely visible in the dim light, just a hint of his features emerging from the gloom. Ianto wanted to go to him, to tell him he was sorry, that he shouldn't have asked that from him, but he knew he couldn't. It had been necessary. Jack would recover, he would be fine, but right now there were bigger things to do.  
  
He had to keep going, because he had a feeling that when he stopped he would never start again.  
  
The technicians came out of the conference room looking nervous, Tim, Dave and Lila emerged first with scared but determined looks on their faces. Forming a loose semi circle facing Debs and the rest of the regular team, the technicians shifted awkwardly, their torch beams flashing over the scene as some soft gasps and whispers filled the air.   
  
“Take a good look,” Ianto ordered at last, stepping forward and placing his hand on the back of Debs' head and forcing her to look up. “Take a good look at her, because there is something you need to understand, all of you. Some of you think this is just a game, a bit of fun and time off study, a way to show off your skills and work with some fun equipment. Some of you will move on again in a few weeks and this will all just be a bit of a good story to tell your grandchildren-”  
  
Ianto smirked slightly. “As a reminder, that is roughly how long your confidentiality agreements last.” A nervous squeak of a laugh escaped someone, but he ignored it and carried on. “And some of you think of this as just another job, no more important than working in any other office or flipping burgers at McDonalds. Debs thought of this as a job,” he said coldly, circling her chair as he spoke. “She thought of it as just another workplace, another big corporation, another mark to con, and well, if she wasn't going to get her contract renewed and be able to do exactly what she wanted, she was going to get what she could out of it.”  
  
“But she didn't raid the stationery cupboard or steal from the petty cash, she didn't even spend all her day on Facebook, playing World of Warcraft or downloading music. She stole secrets. She stole confidential data. She helped steal the dead.” He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him and risked a glance at the corner where Jack sat. It was hard to tell in the gloom, but he could have sworn Jack was watching too.  
  
“She stole them from us and she didn't even care where they ended up. She stole blueprints for weapons and technology that any dictator would sell out all of his own citizens to get. She stole the formula for a drug that would make Rohypnol look like aspirin, a perfect way of stealing memories from people. She stole bodies that could hold the secrets to miracle cures or the next AIDS virus.”  
  
He paused, stopping behind her and placing his hands flat on her shoulders, feeling more than seeing the flinch in her body. “She betrayed our own team and as a result Noddy is in a coma.” He heard the gasps around the room, the stares turning from fear and nervousness to shock, disgust and even outright hatred as they listened. “And he is not alone. At least a dozen innocent civilians are in comas and can't be woken up. She did this.”   
  
“You may think that a lot of what we do here isn't important, that it doesn't matter, that you are only moving papers,” he nodded to the pair who were working on the recovered archive files, “walking the dog,” he nodded to Jasmine with a small smile, “maintaining a server or goofing around on the internet, doing maths, fiddling with machines or pest control,” he finished, letting his gaze flit over Lila and the other more senior technicians and ending up facing Big Ears. The soldier looked wrecked, his body and soul wrung out to dry, but he managed to raise his eyes, meeting Ianto's gaze, and he could see the cold determination coming through again.  
  
“But. It. Matters. All of it, every single paper, machine, blob, equation, theory, byte of date and tweet, they make a difference. You make a difference. And I think that's something you've never really had a chance to see. I think that's where I failed you,” he admitted, moving away from Debs and over to one side. “I've been so focused on trying to get everything sorted so fast, we've been running and running and bringing you all in, giving you a taste of what we do, but never letting you stay long enough to invest in it.”  
  
“That changes tonight. Tonight you have a choice. I am offering each and every one of you the chance to sign on, permanently. No more internships, no more temping, just a real commitment. A vocation.” He shrugged, leaning against the worktable. “Not a job, not a career. This isn't about the salary or the pension scheme or the health cover – all of which are quite good by the way,” he added, another smattering of nervous laughs in the darkness and cautious smiles emerging.  
  
“This isn't about climbing a corporate ladder, there are no glass ceilings, no unions and definitely no team building days out and political correctness. This isn't about fame and fortune, there is no glory, no prize for saving the world but to wake up the next day knowing you did good – and then getting out of bed, getting dressed and going out to do it all over again, because no matter how well you do, no matter how hard you fight or what you sacrifice, it's  _never_  over. There's  _always_  another battle, another enemy to fight, even if it's just your own conscience,” he smiled slightly at John and Johnson, “your own friends.”  
  
“This isn't a job. This is a calling. It's a lifetime. You will have the opportunity to see things you never dreamed possible, to meet people you could never even imagine in your wildest dreams. You will always have work to do, you will always be a part of it; even if you do finally leave, it never leaves you.”  
  
“It's not safe. If you betray us, you can expect the same as she got, and more,” he said, motioning to Debs. “We're not a charity, we have no prime directive or moral compass, you could be asked to do things that will keep you awake at night for years to come, you could see horrors that haunt you every time you close your eyes. You could end up in a hospital bed, sleeping the rest of your life away, or have it snuffed out just like that. It's a very real risk. It's a filthy, hard, terrible, dirty job and you may have to give up entire parts of your life to get it done.”  
  
“But  _somebody_  has to do it. And tonight I'm asking you to make a choice. Some of you are here because you are avoiding something worse,” Ianto said, his eyes finding Lois across the room, “some because you don't have anywhere else to be,” he added looking at Johnson, “and I've been fine with that, and I won't lie, I need you tonight, I need your help with this, and I expect you to give it. But after this... I don't want you here unless you are going to be in it completely, no more separate teams and units, one team. One family.”  
  
“It's your choice, but before you make it, I want you to do something for me.” Taking a deep breath, Ianto grabbed his torch from the table and pointed at the door to the doctor's office where Noddy lay seriously ill. “I want you to go look at Noddy, and see what the consequences can be. I want you to take a good look at Debs,” he said, swinging the torch back to focus on her again, “and see what could happen if you come into this half hearted or for the wrong reasons.”  
  
“I want you to go to the window and look out at this city, this country, this planet, your home, the only one any of us have, and remember every Cyberman in your home, every Dalek on your streets, every spaceship over your horizon and screaming child. I want you to think of the fear and hopelessness and remember that every time we got through it, not through luck or fate, but because someone had to make a sacrifice to keep the rest of us safe. I want you to think about whether the next time it happens you will be in your home, hugging your loved ones safe and praying to whatever deity you want for help, or if you would be strong enough to leave them behind, not know if they are safe or in danger, but just focus on your job and hope that you do enough to make a difference and keep them safe.”  
  
“Then I want you to decide. If you want to go, absolutely nobody will think anything bad of you; believe me,” Ianto added, looking at Cassie, “sometimes walking away and choosing to leave all this behind is the best thing you could possibly do. If you walk out that door, you go with my gratitude, and thanks for all the work you've done here, a glowing recommendation to the foundation, and a fair amount of envy. Leave your ID on the table, go without any guilt or shame and expect a goodbye bonus in your allowances.”  
  
“But,” he said quickly, standing up straight again and walking forwards, the group parting around him to let him through, turning as one to watch his progress through the office to the conference room door. “If you want to stay, if you want to sign up, if you want to give yourself to Torchwood, to fight the darkness in whatever form it takes, to face your fears even knowing that the monsters under the bed _are_  real and may take you in your sleep, if you want to fight back and protect everyone else out there, if you want to make a difference and do something real with your life-”  
  
Ianto smiled, his fingers resting on the doorhandle and his shoulder resting against the wood of the door, and looked back at them all. “If you want to be a hero, then come with me.”  
  
Turning the handle, he did not dare look back and instead slipped into the conference room, letting the door click closed behind him. Resting against the wall beside the door, he let out a shaky breath and looked up to the ceiling, listening to the rising babble of voices and movement in the next room. He'd done all he could, now it was up to them, this was a new start for the team.   
  
No more approaching one or two talented people and nurturing them for years, then being ripped apart when they left. No more mass hirings and impersonal workforces being led to the slaughter or the conversion chamber without even knowing why they had been there at all. This time would be different.  
  
This time it wasn't his way, or Jack's way, or Yvonne's, or Queen Victoria's, or anyone else’s. This would be their Torchwood, all of them, their team, each and every person who chose to join up would not only  _be_  Torchwood, they would  _create_  it.   
  
Now all he could do was wait and hope that he had any team left to create it with.  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Big Ears moved first, breaking out of Ben's supportive hug and heading towards the conference room as Johnson called after him. “You sure you want to do that Big? We will fight this mission, we're in too deep now, but after that... It's up to us. We can all stay or go as we please.” The rest of Johnson's team were squaring up behind her, ready to move – although whether to the room or out nobody could tell.  
  
“We always could,” Big Ears said quickly, “and as for staying here, am I sure? Y'know what, no, I wasn't,” he said quietly, his face haunted as he turned back to face her. “Not at first. I don't trust anyone no more, not even you boss, I didn't trust anyone but Sammy.” He smiled without warmth, his eyes distant. “And earlier today he told me he wanted to start trusting you all more, that he reckoned it was time we stopped running. That it was time it was more than just us.  _He_  wants to stay. He wants to be Torchwood.”  
  
He carried on towards the door, pointing at it. “If it was just me, I'd be thinking long and hard before going through this door, but it's not. My brother is lying ill in the next room and there is  _not a damn thing_  I can do to make him better, unless I trust someone else, unless I trust Ianto has some plan to fix it. I'm doing this, I'm doing this for my family, for me, for my little brother. I'm doing this for Sammy.”  
  
Opening the door, he paused in the doorframe and looked back at Johnson again, not pleading, not even asking, just waiting for her reply.  
  
Glancing at her team, her eyes lingering on each man, looking for an answer she already knew in her heart, had known before the question had even been asked, she folded her arms across her chest. “For Sammy.”  
  
“For Sammy,” several of them echoed. Then, as one, the commandos all headed for the conference room.  
  
**************************************** ******  
  
Lois drifted closer to the main office door, taking up position beside it, and watched as a couple of the younger technicians followed her. Glancing around nervously, their gaze kept flicking to the door and she smiled tightly. “It's okay, if you want to go, it's okay.”  
  
Jasmine stepped forward, her face twisted in indecision as she fiddled with her ID card. “I don't... I just don't think I'm strong enough.”  
  
“You never know until you try,” Lois said softly, opening the door and pointing out to the hallway beyond. “It's your call, you have to follow your heart.”  
  
“I...” she hesitated again, then shook her head, just a little. “I can't. My family, I-”  
  
“You don't have to explain,” Lois said kindly, stepping forward and giving the girl a hug before pulling back and slipping the ID card from her hands. “It's okay. Go home.”  
  
Nodding, Jasmine stepped through the doorway, then stopped. “Oh, the blobs, I wanted to tell Ianto about them-”  
  
“I'll call you,” Lois promised, nodding to her. “We'll arrange a proper handover and debrief, and I'll make sure they are well taken care of.”  
  
“I... Thanks,” Jasmine said with a blush, looking over her shoulder at the office behind her. “I'm going to miss this place.” Her gaze fell on the skyline outside and she shook her head slightly. “But not as much as I'd miss all the plans I've always had for myself. I'm not cut out to be a hero. I just want to be me.”  
  
With one last look back, her eyes lingering on Dave as he gave her a small wave goodbye, she swallowed hard then headed out into the night.  
  
As she left, Lila put an arm around Dave and gave him a quick hug, whispering something in his ear that brought a sad smile to his face. Pulling back, Lila walked over to the conference room and stopped outside the door. Looking back over her shoulder at Cassie, she grinned. “For Paw,” she called out cryptically before stepping through. Tim was right behind her, hesitating too and finding Lois, his small smile shy, and infectious, and honest, as he met her gaze.  
  
“For Michael,” he called out to her, winking bravely before his smile dropped and he headed on through.  
  
Dave watched them go, then shrugged, stepping backwards towards the door and looking round the emptying room a little awkwardly. “Um, I haven't exactly got anyone to dedicate this to, but I'm doing it anyway, for-” He stopped and shrugged. “Uh, well, me I guess.” Turning to the door he suddenly spun back round and looked pleased as he quickly added, “oh I know, for dragons!”  
  
Laughter rang out from some of the other technicians and he grinned, embarrassed, “whatever, I like the Welsh dragons.”  
  
Ducking through the door, his cheeks flushed, he joined the others inside.  
  
**************************************** **********  
  
“Annabelle, come on, stay,” Richard pleaded quietly, his hand on her arm as she shook her head sadly, glancing towards the door.  
  
“No, I can't-”  
  
“Look, what happened tonight, Debs and all that, it's just a one off-”  
  
“You really believe that don't you?” She asked, surprise on her face as she looked at him. “You think that just because everyone is pledging to be good that there's never going to be a situation like that again, that everyone will just get along? No, it's never a one off.”  
  
“Anna-”  
  
“Richard, what does it matter to you what I decide, this is my choice, it's my life, why can't you just respect that?”  
  
“I just...” Richard swallowed hard, almost embarrassed. “I like you. I don't mean like – Well, that too – but I can talk to you and... I thought maybe...”  
  
“Oh Richard,” she sighed, reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair. “I like you too, but I like me and I like being alive and safe a lot more. I just...” pulling her hand back, she smiled slightly as he caught it and twisted his fingers in hers.   
  
“Stay. Why not? Come on, I just want to know why?”  
  
“You really want to know? I grew up missing an uncle because of the troubles. I spent my youth being told not to trust the other kids, the ones who weren't like us, not to trust strange men, never to go near parked cars, always watch out for abandoned bags...I know my folks were just paranoid, and I don't blame them for trying to keep me safe, but I don't want to ever feel that way again. It took me a long time to learn to trust anyone again and I can't go back to that suspicion and fear, I just can't.”  
  
Pausing, she took a deep breath and pulled her hand back out of his. “And no one can change my mind. I need to do what's right for me.” Looking at him oddly for a moment, she suddenly lunged forwards and kissed him on the lips, not much more than a peck, before stepping back out of his reach in case he should want more. “Take care of yourself Richard. Make sure you do what's right for you too.”  
  
“I'm staying,” he said firmly, his eyes flicking to the conference room door. “I can't explain it, but I know I'm staying, it just, it just feels right.”  
  
Smiling slightly oddly, she nodded and back away from him, waving half heartedly as she did so. “I know exactly what you mean. Bye Richard.”  
  
“Goodbye Annabelle.”  
  
**************************************** ***  
  
Ianto could feel his heart in his mouth every time the door opened and someone else slipped in, hoping that it would be the right people, the ones he needed to make this work, his mind quickly assigning every face to a team, a task. He smiled as Sarah stuck her head around the door, then looked back, as though reassuring someone, and stepped through with-  
  
Tom.  
  
Ianto couldn't help the surprise on his face, and he could see Tom saw it too. Without a word, the doctor simply stepped forward into the room and took a seat at the table, watching silently but his body language ready. He was in.  
  
Ianto let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding and grabbed his notepad, scribbling down a few more ideas. They could do this. He knew it. They already had enough to make this work.  
  
But with Tom on board, maybe they could this with just a little more finesse than he had originally thought...  
  
**************************************** ****  
  
Lois watched the others milling around, trying to make up their minds. Several slipped into the medical bay, coming out with their faces ashen, some shocked and heading for the door, but others determined and almost marching to the conference room. The group was steadily shrinking until there was only a few of them left and the small stack of ID cards was weighing heavy in her hands. Most of the newer technicians had left, not that she could blame them. As she watched, she wasn't entirely sure if she was staying for herself or because of the fear of the jail sentence she had been facing.  
  
Cassie drifted closer, taking up position on the other side of the door, and leaned against the wall, giving her a tired smile. “You holding up?”  
  
“Just about,” Lois said wearily, watching the last of the group trying to make up their minds. “It's been a hell of a day. Hell of a week really.”  
  
“Hell of a life,” Cassie said softly, looking out across the room too and smiling to herself. “They'll stay,” she whispered, sounding almost envious.  
  
“Are you staying?”  
  
“Me?” Cassie shook her head quickly. “I will see this through but I'm a one mission only type of girl. I have a job, a life, and a calling back in the States. It's who I am now and it's what I want to do, what I'm good at.” She laughed softly, as though just realising something. “It's home. I've spent so much time mourning the home and life I lost, I didn't even notice the one that was being built around me. I miss it,” she laughed again, louder this time, “I actually miss it, my boss bitching at me, the way nobody can make a decent cup of tea, the hideously fattening donuts, I miss it. And I'm going back to it,” she said firmly.  
  
Lois caught sight of Jack in the corner of the room. He hadn't moved, had simply sat and watched, his expression hidden in the shadows. “And what about Jack?”  
  
“He's staying too,” Cassie said firmly, no hesitation.  
  
“How can you tell,” Lois asked in confusion, trying to squint into the darkness. “You can't see his face from here.”  
  
“I know he's staying because I know why he's staying.” Shrugging, she watched as the last few technicians made their way to the conference room and Jack finally rose to his feet, his coat falling into place around him as he straightened up.   
  
“He's lost so much,” Lois whispered softly, not wanting him to hear her, “why would he stay, why wouldn't he just go?”  
  
“Part stubbornness, part habit, partly because he has nowhere else to go,” Cassie said quickly, counting them off on her fingers. “Partly because he knows it's the only place he will ever call home. Mostly because he's a honest to goodness hero, and God knows there aren't many of those around any more. But to him, it's more basic than that.”  
  
They watched as he took a deep breath and opened the conference room door and Captain Jack Harkness rejoined Torchwood, for good. Stepping back from the main entrance, the women locked it behind them and nodded to each other before stepping out into the dark room and making their way to join the rest of the team.  
  
“What's more basic than home?” Lois asked at last, her torchlight shining on the door handle and shaking slightly, hoping that she was making the right decision; even though her heart was sure, her head was still wavering. Forcing herself to grasp the handle, she looked back at Cassie and waited for the reply before turning it.  
  
“For love,” Cassie said with a strange smile. “Heroes, the real ones anyway, aren't heroes for duty or honour or glory, they don't fight for civilisation or humanity. They fight for their family, their friends. The most powerful force in this world is the one who fights out of love, not hate.”  
  
“Of course,” she added wryly, “love can still get its arse well and truly kicked, and good only always conquers evil in fairytales and Hollywood. So, what do you say, shall we give it all the help we can?”  
  
**************************************** ***********  
  
“That's everyone,” Lois confirmed as she pulled the door closed behind her, a small stack of ID cards in her hands that she placed on the conference room table, the photos spilling out onto the wood and marking those who had left.  
  
Ianto looked round the conference room as he leant on the table and couldn't help smiling as he took in those who had stayed though. It hurt to realise who was missing; the names he knew that would never be back, those whose presence had still been so new he hadn't had a chance to notice it yet, the ones who had left before they had even had a chance to shine. But the ones who remained...  
  
Nodding, Ianto pushed back off the table and stood up straight, bringing his hands together in front of him. “I just want to start off by saying thank you. I know this may not be exactly what you thought you were signing up for when you joined, and I don't know yet how this will end up, but whatever happens, I want you all to know how proud I am to be able to consider you a part of us, a part of Torchwood, and that you're going to become a part of a very proud legacy.”  
  
“I already have my own very proud legacy thanks mate,” John piped up from the back, shrugging as people turned to look at him. “I'm not here for the speeches, I just want the money.”  
  
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Ianto simply shrugged and folded his arms. “Okay, everyone except John. But he is right about one thing, no more speeches, we don't have time.” Looking round the room, Ianto mentally began shifting his pieces into place, working out who could go where, whether they had enough people, if the skills he needed were still there-  
  
Yes. Just about.  
  
Breathing a small sigh of relief, he grinned. “Okay folks, listen up because we don't have a lot of time to get this together and I am going to need each and every one of you to pull this off.” He looked up as the lights flickered on, a small cheer going up around the room as Cardiff's power returned at last. “And that will definitely help.”  
  
“So what's the target?” Johnson asked, stepping forward to slide into a seat around the conference table as others began to follow suit. “The warehouse, the hospital or the guys offices? Which one are we going for?”  
  
“We're not going for one of them,” Ianto said, enjoying the look of surprise as people hesitated, half in their seats or drifting around the room to the remaining ones like the players of a silent game of musical chairs.  
  
“We're not?” Lois asked, slipping into her usual place at his side, her notebook and pencil at the ready.  
  
“No.” Ianto said, looking round the room as everyone slid into their seats and looked up at him expectantly. “We're going to hit them all. And this is how we're going to do it...”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.”  
> Eisenhower

Dr Grace Stephens traced her fingertips over the computer readouts and smiled to herself. The technology was fascinating, the images so clear and able to keep track of their patient in real time, no layer by layer processing, no delays; she could fully believe what the young man who had been in charge had said about it being able to track moving patients too.  
  
If only their patient could move to test that theory.  
  
Turning her attention back to the young man laid out on the bench, she caught Tom staring at him oddly. “Tom, you okay?” He looked up as though he had been caught doing something wrong, a flash of guilt across his face, before nodding and running a hand across his face, stretching his mouth wide with the move.  
  
“I will be when this is over. What's your verdict?”  
  
Placing a hand on Noddy's wrist, her fingertips finding his pulse with an ease borne of long practice, she found herself counting the beats out of pure habit, even with the high tech equipment doing most of the work for them. “He is definitely in a coma, no physical cause, and the chemicals in his system have already begun to break down. Whatever he was exposed to, it is very fast acting and short lived. Whatever has affected his mind though-”  
  
“Can you bring him out of it?”  
  
“Not without knowing more about it. From what they were saying about-” she hesitated, her mouth twisting with disbelief, “-alien attacks and psychic injury, I am very loathe to try and bring him out of it medically. Even without any supposed supernatural influences, the human brain is a very delicate thing, normal stimulants have had no effect on him, and I do not wish to try anything stronger and force the issue.”  
  
“So we wait?”  
  
Nodding, Dr Stephens looked at the readouts. “We wait. I can say that at some level he is aware of his surroundings though.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Well,” she let go of his wrist and motioned to Tom to back away from the table. “When he is out of close proximity with other people, there is an increase in cortisol production; his body is stressed when it is alone, even though there is no physical reaction to stimuli, or indeed any indication of awareness. But when someone is with him...” Stepping closed again, she took one hand and motioned to Tom to take the other, her eyes fixed on the readings. “Levels begin to drop again. In fact, it looks as though dopamine production picks up.”  
  
“Strange. What about the lighting, they said to keep the lights high?”  
  
“Oh yes, the same effect seems to occur when there is no light on the skin, his body reacts negatively to the darkness. It's fascinating.”  
  
“So there  _is_  a physical component to it,” a voice said from the doorway and they turned to see Ianto and Jack watching patiently. Ianto continued, “darkness and solitude have a physical effect when someone is affected by the creature.”  
  
“It may be a side effect of the psychic link,” Jack guessed, frown lines appearing around his eyes as he considered it. “The creature is hurt by sunlight, it likes the dark, maybe it doesn't like feeling the light, even at a remove. Or maybe it needs the darkness to strengthen the link and the reverse is some part of the human mind defending itself, using this knowledge against the creature, trying to make it uncomfortable for it.”  
  
“I'm sorry, but I am not prepared to hypothesise based on rumours and guesses,” Dr Stephens snapped, her attention fully on her patient again but a steel in her voice that made the men regard her curiously. “I don't know how you run things around here, but I can give you the medical facts and nothing else.”  
  
“Of course, doctor,” Ianto said, stepping forward. “Is there anything more you can do for him, anything that Sarah couldn't handle on her own for a few hours?”  
  
“I... No, not at the moment, without knowing for sure what's causing this I can't-”  
  
“Then Sarah could manage this?”  
  
“Mr Jones,” Grace snapped, “if you think you can drag me halfway across the country, in the middle of the night, then just throw me out-”  
  
“No, no,” Ianto said quickly, shaking his head and smiling. “Dr Stephens, please believe me, I am very grateful for your help. But there's something else I need from you right now that is more important than just one patient. We need your help....”  
  
As he outlined his plan, she found herself laughing incredulously, sure they were joking, then stopped as she spotted the look on Tom's face. “You're serious?”  
  
“Deadly.”  
  
“What about Tom?”  
  
“I could do this instead,” he admitted, “if you don't want to do it, I'll go, but if something goes wrong with the patients you're the neurologist, you might be able to do something to help them.”  
  
“Plus,” Jack said, “our team is going into a dangerous situation, we have to be able to assess the bodies quickly and there is a chance some of us may get hurt along the way. We could really use a medic too, and as we have two of you here...”  
  
“You're all crazy, you do know that right?” All three men nodded at the same time and, in spite of herself, Grace threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine, of course I'll do it. But Tom, you owe me dinner after all this, remember.”  
  
“Thank you, Grace,” Tom said, stepping forward to kiss her on the cheek gently. “You're amazing.”  
  
“I get that a lot...”  
  
  
**************************************** *********************  
  
James Chen groaned as his phone went off and rolled over blearily. His very empty stomach complained at the move as he reached for his phone, Dave's grinning face filling up the small screen until he answered it. “Go away.”  
  
 _“Oh come on mate, you can't still be that ill, I thought it was just a tummy bug?”_  
  
He looked over the side of his bed at the bucket that was stood ready and waiting, and fortunately empty, although there was still a small trace of water in the bottom from the last time he had rinsed it. “Next time, you can catch Blob flu and I'll mess around on Facebook all day, then we can talk about tummy bugs.”  
  
 _“Hey, unfair,”_  Dave grumbled, then there was a sound, as though someone was interrupting him in the background, and his voice went muffled.  _“I'm doing it!”_  A scratch over the mouthpiece marked his return and James sighed, rolling back onto the pillows and groaning. _“Listen, Jimmy, you need to come into the office.”_  
  
James shook his head and snuggled down in the pillows further. “No way, I barely made it to my own kitchen for water last night, I can't make it into the office.”  
  
 _“Yeah, I get that, but you really don't want to miss this and, well, we need you. Seriously.”_  
  
He paused, frowning slightly, the fine lines marking his tired young face out of place. “Define 'we'.”  
  
 _“Torchwood! Us! The whole team, we've got this mission and, oh, you have missed some amazing stuff, Debs was a spy, can you believe it? And Ianto was on this rampage, throwing people around, and threatening us to try and catch her, and Noddy is in a coma, and loads of people have left, and, oh! Yeah, there was this awesome speech Ianto gave, very Bill Pullman in Independence Day, or Morgan Freeman in, I guess anything of his really -”_  
  
“Dave-”  
  
 _“Or maybe it was more Professor X, that whole 'you can make your own choice but I am totally the most amazing person you are ever going to meet' vibe-”_  
  
“Dave.”  
  
 _“Or maybe someone scarier, you know that whole dark powerful evil villain way-”_  
  
“Dave!”  
  
 _“What?”_  
  
“There was a speech.”  
  
 _“Yep.”_  
  
“A very rousing speech.”  
  
 _“Yeah, it was-”_  
  
“And Debs is a spy.”  
  
 _“I know, shocker right? I was-”_  
  
“And there's a mission to, what, find the bad guy?”  
  
 _“Find the bad guy, kill the bad alien, and free the good hostages really, including Noddy.”_  
  
“And we lost half the team?”  
  
 _“Mostly the younger kids, but yeah, Annabelle's gone, and Jasmine-”_  
  
“So...” James dragged the word out, rubbing a hand over his hot forehead and looking round his room, trying to work out if he even had any clothes left that weren't a mess or too tight on his sore stomach. “You need me.”  
  
 _“Yep, we need someone to help co-ordinate things, sort of central strategy man, you're really good at that sort of thing-”_  
  
“In the office?”  
  
 _“Yeah, oh, no! No fighting or adventure stuff, just sit and watch and listen and talk, maybe with some maps and stuff, like in those World War II films, you know-”_  
  
“Dave.”  
  
 _“Yeah?”_  
  
“I'll need a lift.”  
  
 _“Oh, sure! I'll send someone over right away.”_  
  
“Give me half an hour. Oh, and Dave?”  
  
 _“Yeah?”_  
  
“Make sure I can go in the front of the car and they're not squeamish. I'm bringing my bucket.”   
  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Martha woke up groggily, her head pounding in a way that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Cursing, she rolled over and frowned as she spotted the glass of water, packet of painkillers, and steaming cup of coffee on the table by her bed.  
  
“What...?”  
  
Forcing her eyes open a little more, she finally spotted her mother bustling around the room.  
  
“Good morning Doctor Jones,” Francine said sharply, pulling open the curtains in a move that showed a complete lack of sympathy with her state, and was in stark contrast to the thoughtful hangover supplies on the table.  
  
“Mum, what-” Pulling the covers over her head against the daylight, Martha groaned again.  
  
“It's time to get up, young lady, and get back to work.” Muttering darkly, and using some very unladylike terms, Martha grumbled to herself for a few seconds longer before finally settling for pulling the duvet down from her head, and squinting into the light at her mother.  
  
“I don't have a job any more mum. Or a marriage, a place to live, a future, or even a CV I can actually show a prospective employer. Time Traveller and alien hunter aren't exactly gonna impress them down the Job Centre, bet they still try and put me down for administration and call centres.”  
  
“I'm not talking about the Job Centre,” Francine explained testily, throwing Martha's dirty clothes from the night before into the laundry basket before pointing sharply at the water. “Drink up, you've got to be well enough to travel.”  
  
“Travel,” Martha said slowly, doing as she was told and having a drink of water before taking a moment to pop the pills from their packet and swallow two with it. “Mum, you're not making any sense.”  
  
“No, not making sense is moping around here getting drunk instead of fighting to get back what you've lost. I don't understand you Martha Jones, you never used to give up when you wanted something, you used to just go for it. I think you get that from me, God knows your father never has that drive, but you used to be a fighter. You saved the whole Universe. Twice!”  
  
“At least,” Martha muttered darkly, shifting in the bed. “And look where it got me.”  
  
“Oh for goodness sake child,” Francine snapped at last, tossing a dirty sock into the laundry and physically tugging the duvet from her daughter, tossing it after the sock.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Oh stop complaining and drink your coffee. Tish left you some sort of hangover cure thing downstairs, she's just nipping into the office to try and stop them firing her, then she'll be back to pick you up. You have just enough time for some breakfast-”  
  
Martha's stomach growled, caught somewhere between approval and disgust at the idea of food.  
  
“-a shower, for goodness sake brush your teeth, get dressed and ready for her.”  
  
“Mum!” Martha complained, sitting up and grabbing her head to stop it falling off her shoulders, her instincts ignoring the little detail that life (and years of medical training) had taught her; that it was physically impossible for it to just fall off her neck. “Oh, ow. Mum, if you ever want to tell me what's actually going on, that would be just great, otherwise, please can I go back to sleep?”  
  
“You're going to Cardiff.”  
  
“Cardiff.” Martha looked up from her hands. “But I just left there, remember? Me, fired. Ianto, cross. Jack, back and annoying as hell-” She ignored the look her mother shot her and almost rolled her eyes at how much her mother adored the guy. Given half a chance she would totally have adopted him by now, if not for the whole him being older than she was and technically not really existing bit. “Tom,” she continued, her heart breaking a little at his name. “Incredibly angry. Ergo, me, here, hungover, hopeless and homeless, remember?”  
  
“I'm not an idiot or suffering from amnesia young lady, and I do not appreciate that tone, I don't care how old you are or how many qualifications you get, you will never be too old for a clip round the ear! Now, if you want any chance of making amends for all that, you'd better get a move on.”  
  
“Mum, I'm begging now, seriously, please, will you just tell me what on Earth's going on?”  
  
Francine told her.  
  
“Oh,” Martha said quietly, before grabbing the coffee and swallowing as much as she could bear before rising unsteadily to her feet and heading for the bathroom. “Get the toast on, I'll be down in ten minutes.”  
  
**************************************** ********************  
  
Lois yawned as she blinked at the mirror, her mascara wand hastily pulled back from her face as she almost stabbed herself with it.   
  
“You okay?” Lois looked at the reflection of Lila beside her in the mirror and smiled, nodding.  
  
“Nothing a day or two in bed couldn't fix.”  
  
Lila grinned and looked down for a moment, trying to hide the smirk on her face by searching for her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “I know that feeling. If you ever want any company in that, let me know.”  
  
Lois smiled, completely missing the invitation, and concentrated on making her eyes a little less sleep darkened. “Another coffee will do for now.”  
  
As she focused on her mascara, Lois was vaguely aware of Dr Stephens rooting through her own bag and the snap and swish of Johnson taming her own mane into a tight braid for the mission ahead. The ladies toilets had not been this crowded since the last birthday, the younger girls getting ready for a night on the town. The air had been full of perfume and hairspray and excitement, whereas now there was just tense silence and the lingering scent of apple shampoo from the showers.  
  
It was just as well that Cassie had opted to go back to her hotel to get ready as the row of sinks were all occupied, the artificial lighting highlighting the dark circles under their eyes – not to mention the growing black eye on Lila's face. Lois watched as Lila dabbed on another layer of almost white foundation, the bruise slowly fading but her eyelid jumping with each touch and hinting at the pain.  
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
Lila nodded, putting the make up sponge down again and blending with her fingers cautiously. “I've had worse. Thanks for the ice pack though, least I should be able to hide it long enough to get the job done.”  
  
“No worries.” Sighing, Lois put down her mascara and checked out her reflection in the mirror. The smart skirt suit was professional yet nondescript, the sort of outfit that so many young women wore that it would not stand out. Hopefully she would blend in easily enough. After all, she had managed it before.  
  
She heard a soft clatter from the end and they all looked as Grace picked up her bag and sighed. “This is insane, isn't it.”  
  
“Yep,” all three Torchwood girls replied at once.   
  
“Is it always like this around here?”  
  
“No,” Lila said quickly.  
  
“Sometimes,” Lois added.  
  
“Always,” Johnson finished.  
  
“Thanks, I feel so much better now.”  
  
**************************************** **********************  
  
Ianto was grateful that the power had been back on long enough for the hot water to cope with the steady rush of showers this morning. The small set of showers they had installed had been a necessity (not every experiment ended well) and they weren't very powerful, the pressure sometimes dropping out, but they worked. As he rinsed his hair and opened his mouth under the spray, letting it fill him up before spitting it out again, he reflected that they definitely did the job.  
  
Reluctantly turning off the flow, he reached around the curtain for the towel, his fingers groping blindly until they closed over-  
  
-an empty hook. Pulling the curtain slightly to one side, Ianto wiped his eyes as best he could and looked out.  
  
Jack was stood there, holding out the towel with a small smile that was somewhere between apologetic and unashamedly pleased. Rolling his eyes, Ianto grabbed the towel and disappeared back behind the curtain. “Is there a problem, Jack?”  
  
“No, I just... It's not like we've had much time alone and I wanted to say, before we left, I wanted to say...” Ianto paused behind the curtain, the towel halfway across his chest as he dried off. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, you were right.” Ianto let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding and smiled slightly, but couldn't resist mouthing the phrase 'holy shit' to himself silently. “There was no way she was going to talk otherwise and without her intel, there's no way this plan of yours could work.”   
  
“Still might not,” Jack added, “but at least we have a chance now. I just... However this goes, I want you to know that.” Ianto heard the hesitation and carried on drying himself hurriedly, wanting desperately to see the thoughts behind the words, the expressions painted in soft brush strokes over Jack's chiselled features. “I was just thinking about the plan, I mean, Johnson already has a good team, so if you wanted some extra back up, I could come with you instead-”  
  
Pulling back the curtain, Ianto stepped out of the small shower, the towel wrapped around his waist almost but not quite long enough to cover the messy, ragged hole of a scar on his leg. He was all too aware of Jack's eyes flicking down to it, a look of surprise and horror quickly masked, but making Ianto feel self conscious none the less.  
  
“No,” Ianto said firmly, Jack's eyes finding his again, the horror gone but surprise still evident. “You will be where you are needed most. As will I.” Hesitating for a moment, Ianto finally stepped closer and put his hands on Jack's shoulders, feeling the slight dampness to Jack's t-shirt from his own earlier shower. “I need you to help protect the others. I don't need protecting.”  
  
“You sure about that?” Jack asked quietly, his words cutting straight through Ianto's bravado and armour, straight to the small wisps of fear he was trying to keep locked down.  
  
“No more than I am about going down the bay on a Saturday night in Hen Party season,” Ianto joked, relieved when Jack smiled, “but it has to be this way.”  
  
“I know, but-”  
  
Leaning forward, Ianto gave in and kissed him fiercely, trying to lose all his fears and doubts and draw strength from Jack, as though the memory of the kiss itself on his lips would be enough to protect him during the task ahead. Finally breaking off, he smiled at Jack reassuringly before resting their foreheads together.   
  
“Come on, we've got a job to do. But after this, I...” Twisting his fingers in Jack's t-shirt, curling the fabric around them tightly, and ignoring the creases he was causing, Ianto took a deep breath. “I'd like it if you came over. To my place. Tonight. As in, overnight. If you'd still like to.”  
  
“Yes sir,” Jack said softly, without a trace of sarcasm or arousal, just a simple affirmation and obedience that made Ianto grin before nodding.  
  
“Right, you'd better get out there and armed up. Whilst I-” Ianto stopped as Jack stepped aside, revealing a razor and shaving foam on the counter by the sinks. “Shave, apparently.”  
  
“You don't have to take it all off, I'm not hinting,” Jack said quickly, “it was actually Lois' idea, no offence but the Hobo beard doesn't really scream respect my authority, more-”  
  
“Touch my shopping trolley of junk and I'll stab you with my broken fence pole?”  
  
“I wasn't going to mention it, but yeah, pretty much.”  
  
Chuckling, Ianto picked up the razor but wasn't sure if he full believed Jack's claim that Lois was behind this; he doubted Lois knew his favourite brand of razor. Although, stranger things had happened, and she  _was_  a very good PA...  
  
Reaching for the foam, Ianto caught Jack watching him and frowned. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”  
  
“Yes sir!” Jack snapped off a quick salute and bounded off with a grin, finally leaving Ianto in peace. Taking a long moment to assess the growth, Ianto took a deep breath and began to make himself a little more respectable.  
  
*************************************  
  
“Lila,” Johnson called out from the Armoury, John lurking by the doorway with a twisted grin on his face as the computer expert made her way over. Stopping inside the door, Lila waited as Johnson looked up from a drawer of guns. “Ianto says you worked for Torchwood before and have some weapons experience.”  
  
“Yes ma'am.”  
  
“Any non lethals in that?”  
  
Nodding, Lila stepped closer, her eyes darting over the guns in the drawer. “Yes, the older stun gun mostly. Contact stun weapons, Tasers, and regular firearms is all I have so far. No distance knock outs.”  
  
“We can remedy that later, for now stick to what you know.” Johnson reached into the drawer and pulled out a simple slim tube that looked like a torch. “You familiar with this model?” Taking the tube off her, Lila flipped it round in her fingers and pressed the small button hidden in the grip, a crack and sparks from the end marking the power surging through the machine.  
  
“Point and press, seems standard enough.”  
  
“It shouldn't arouse any curiosity in your normal kit, it packs significantly more power than civilian weapons, but should be a last resort, you only get four shots at full power, after that the effects will lessen. You shouldn't need it, John will be fully armed and watching your back, but better safe than sorry.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“We'll get you properly re certified after all this, I know you're not supposed to be a field agent but I'll be honest, better to know how to use the weapons and not need them, than the other way round.”  
  
“Yes ma'am, that's always been my experience.” Lila glanced round as Dave called her name from the main office, the sound making her sigh. “If there's nothing else, I'd better get moving-”  
  
“There is actually,” Johnson said, opening another drawer and a glimpse of positively antique looking weapons inside drew Lila's attention. “Ianto also said you might need these.” Digging into the drawer, Johnson pulled out a small box and tossed it to the surprised computer expert, the weight of the box catching her unawares and making her almost fumble it.  
  
“What...” Looking at the box, Lila grinned as she read the label and nodded, wrapping her fingers around it tight. “Yes! That's perfect, thank you.”  
  
“Not a problem,” Johnson said simply, closing the drawers again. “I will take any advantage for my team that I can get right now, and if that includes unorthodox, not to mention practically antique, weaponry, then I don't really care. See that he gets them.”  
  
“Yes ma'am,” Lila glanced round as Dave called again. “I've got to-”  
  
“Go.”  
  
Bounding out the door, Lila hurried over to where Dave was working as John Hart slipped into the armoury instead. “So,” John drawled lazily, sliding in to stand behind Johnson. “You got any special weapons for me?”  
  
“You're already more armed and dangerous than you need to be for an infiltration mission, Hart.”  
  
“Always armed, dangerous, ready, willing, and...” Wrapping an arm around her, John pulled himself in close. “Able.”  
  
“And with a lousy sense of timing,” Johnson replied, slipping out of his grasp easily and twisting his arm up behind his back hard enough to make him gasp, a grin on his face at the pain. “What, did you think I was just going to drop to my knees and blow you to kill five minutes?”  
  
“Actually, I was offering, not asking.”  
  
Considering it for a moment, Johnson grinned and leaned in close to him, pressing his arm against his back and resting her chin on his shoulder. “Save that thought and come to mine after this is all over.” Biting hard on his earlobe, she smiled as she dragged it back, enjoying the hiss he made at the sensation before letting go. “I want to get my moneys worth.”  
  
“Yes ma'am.”  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
Jack looked up from his preparations as Lila came over, her hands behind her back and a slight red mark still visible on her face. Smiling slightly, Jack finished putting the last of his gear into the bag and looked up at her. “Lila.”  
  
“Captain Harkness.”  
  
“Ianto told me who you really are.”  
  
Blushing slightly, Lila ran a hand through her spiked hair. “I'm sorry about the deception, Sir, I really am-”  
  
Jack waved his hand dismissively and looked at her carefully. “So you're little Dee Abbot.”  
  
“I go by Barrie now,” she said quickly, “Mum's maiden name. Dad's death made a bit of a stir so-”  
  
“I remember,” Jack said quietly, moving around the work table to stand nearer to her. “I was sorry to hear about your mother passing, she was a good woman.”  
  
“Not as good as my Dad.”  
  
“You really believe that?” Jack asked, seeing her eyes open wide in surprise at the question. “I don't mean anything against your father, I just, your mother was one of the strongest women I've ever met. She was kind and loyal and could fight like a tiger-” Lila laughed in spite of herself. “She was incredible. Yeah, so she had to cut down on the missions after you three came along, but don't you ever underestimate how much strength it takes to support someone in this job, to know the danger and watch as someone you love goes off to fight.” Reaching out, he pushed a slightly longer wisp of hair curling over her temple back towards her ear. “To raise three strong and great kids when your heart is breaking...”  
  
“Doesn't feel like she did that good a job some days.”  
  
“Then you're not seeing yourself properly.” Looking at her closely, Jack stared into her eyes. “You've got your father's eyes, his passion but also her steadiness, that will keep you going long past the point where the fire can sustain you. You're both of them, and they were fine parents, and great officers. Just as I'm sure you will be.”  
  
“I hope so. I may never be the stuff of legends, but I hope I can make a difference. Which reminds me,” bringing her hands out from behind her back, Lila offered him the simple wooden box with a slight grin. “This is for you.”  
  
“What...” Jack took the box and placed it down on the work surface before opening it, his eyes widening as he grinned. “Where did you-”  
  
“It's not your original one but I hope it's close enough.”   
  
Pulling the Webley out of the box, the small box of ammunition that Johnson had given her tucked into the corner, Jack ran his fingertips over it slowly, feeling the weight and smoothness of it and grinning. “It's perfect. Thank you so much!” Gently placing the gun back into the box, he suddenly turned and grabbed her, almost knocking her off her feet with the move.  
  
As he hugged her tight, Lila could feel herself tensing slightly at the strangeness of it; she couldn't really remember her father's embrace, Paw wasn't a physically affectionate man at all, and she had never been in a relationship with a man. Hell, she didn't even have many male friends. Being so completely dwarfed by him, feeling so small in his arms felt weird, but not in a bad way. Letting herself be held, she awkwardly patted him on the back, trying to ignore the scent of his aftershave making her nose tickle and the way his coat was a little harsh against her face, her glasses pressed against her nose.  
  
Finally he pulled back, grabbing her shoulders and kissing her on the forehead, hard enough to make her tilt her head back and wince a little. “Sorry,” Jack said at last, grinning inanely as he let go, his hands shifting to his hips as he stood back again. “I just... This is incredible, thank you.”  
  
“You're welcome, Captain. It isn't just from me, it's from-”  
  
“Your Paw, is that what you call him?”  
  
“Yes. He sends his best.”  
  
“I should probably go see him soon.”  
  
“I think he'd like that,” Lila said softly, lowering her voice, slightly confused and hesitant. “He also said to remind you, you still owe him a bottle of Glenfiddich, and that you'd know the vintage?”  
  
Jack's grin faltered a little and he looked embarrassed before nodding quickly. “He has a good memory.”  
  
“He does.”  
  
“He didn't tell you why...?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Just as well, uh, listen, I don't know what he told you about me, but...”  
  
“I'll be discreet.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Grinning, she nodded. “All part of the service.”  
  
**************************************  
  
Ianto strode into the office and stopped at the wolf whistles that greeted him. “Enough!” he laughed, holding up his hands before adjusting the silk tie around his neck. “Anyone would think you'd never seen me in a suit before, it's only been a week.”  
  
“Not with a goatee we haven't,” John called out, “makes you look all butch and evil genius.” Contenting himself with a discreet finger gesture to John, Ianto turned his attention to his teams. Everyone had already begun grouping off, ready to go.   
  
The largest team by far was Johnson's; the commandos had been joined by Tom and Tim, their borrowed combat gear a little obvious compared to the easy way the soldiers wore theirs. Their new call signs had proved to be completely unoriginal, yet they fit all too well; Doc and Tiny. Jack was the only one from the group who stood out, but at least he had opted for a dark blue shirt this time, the muted blue and grey helping him to blend in a little more against the black.   
  
John, on the other hand, had finally been persuaded to lose his jacket, at least temporarily. The dark t-shirts he, Dave, and Lila, were wearing, complete with a small IT company logo on the breast, looked so ordinary that John could almost pass as a normal human being.  
  
Almost.  
  
The last team was such a mish mash that Ianto couldn't help smiling at them. Lois grinned back, her smart skirt and blouse turning her into a person who just looked trustworthy – and completely unremarkable. Dr Stephens was beside her, her doctor's ID hanging from a lanyard around her neck and a slightly mischievous look in her eyes. Richard, on the other hand, was dressed in expensive yet casual clothes and looked like he was going to be sick, but he caught Ianto's eye long enough to nod and send a slightly shaky yet reassuring smile his way.   
  
Content, Ianto returned his attention to the last member of his team, his own partner in crime for this exploit. Cassie nodded back at him, her traditional Indian kalmar shameez complemented by the scarf wound around her neck to cover her scar. Her hair was loose, hiding the worst of the damage to her forehead, and her natural beauty distracting enough to divert attention from it, at least temporarily.  
  
“Right,” Ianto said at last, looking around them all one last time. “Hospital team,” he said to Lila, Grace, and Richard, “the rest of your crew should already be in place waiting to distract and assist. They will do whatever you need and will all be on earpieces on your frequency, so will hear your instructions and act on your mark.”  
  
“Warehouse team,” he called to Johnson, “we will feed you more detailed location data as soon as we have it, try and track your way closer to the source if you can, then await our signal for final location. As soon as everyone is in place, we can make our move.”  
  
“IT Crowd,” he called out, catching Lila and Dave's delighted grins – and John's completely bemused look – as he continued. “I wish I could tell you not to take any unnecessary risks, but the fact is we need that information. Cassie and I will do our best to distract attention and give you any warning and help we can if they spot you, but you are pretty much on your own.”  
  
“Understood Boss,” Lila said with a quick salute as John sighed melodramatically.  
  
“Can I switch teams? I feel like my reputation is taking a hit just by being near these two, let alone in this thing,” he said, indicating his t-shirt.  
  
“Trust the camouflage,” Dave replied quickly, adjusting his own t-shirt and double checking the fake ID clipped to his cheap black trousers. “Office lackeys are trained to ignore anyone in a uniform, it's the ultimate disguise.”  
  
“It's also at least 50% polyester,” John grumbled. “And it itches.”  
  
“John, stop being a wilting flower and shut up,” Johnson called out from across the room. “Lila, if he gives you any trouble, feel free to shoot him.”  
  
“Always,” she called back, grinning as John sprawled himself over the work surface dramatically, pretending to swoon and making the others laugh.  
  
Ignoring him, Ianto's gaze shifted to the medical room where one of the few younger technicians who had opted to sign on remained. “Sarah, how you holding up?”  
  
“What's there to worry about?” She replied cheerfully. “Stay put, monitor Sammy's condition, watch for any changes, obey the computer instructions if he needs anything, and bore him to death talking for England.” Shrugging, she looked quite pleased with herself. “That I can manage, and Big Ears left me a couple of magazines I can read out if I run out of things to say. No worries.”  
  
“If it's porn, Noddy really loves the stories-” Hugh called out before Big Ears elbowed him, but he was still smiling a little.  
  
“Okay,” Ianto said, drawing their attention back to him. “I think we've done all we can, Johnson, you'd better get moving.”  
  
“Come on ladies, show time.”  
  
“You too hospital team, the rest of us-” Ianto looked round the room and couldn't help a nervous smile. “I don't know about you, but I think we have time for one more cup of coffee before we head out...”  
  
**************************************** ***********  
  
  
Michael Taylor was in hell. He was sure of it.  
  
If he still had his phone he would have been tempted to check it, to see if 'Tim', if that was even his name, had bothered trying to make some pathetic excuse for this. Of course, he didn't have his phone. He had nothing.  
  
There was nothing but darkness all around him, only the occasional flash of an LED bulb flashing red in the dark to keep him company. He hadn't seen any of the supposed nursing staff for what felt like hours and even then, they worked in a dim red glow as they tended to his body as though it was a piece of meat. Other than those moments, he was all alone in the dark.  
  
Except he wasn't.  
  
He could feel it in his mind, wriggling like an insect in his brain, nibbling away at him. It hurt, the pain like pins and needles against the inside of his skull, fleeting, moving, but constantly there. He didn't think he had managed to sleep since he had woken up here, the pain making it impossible to surrender to dreams. Not that he could. His body was screaming for oblivion, for rest, even as his mind fought back, telling him that if he gave in  _it_  would eat him whole and he would never wake up again.  
  
Like the others. He had seen them briefly as he was being brought here, a blurry, sleepy image of rows of sleeping people burned into his brain like something out of a film. The tubes and wires dehumanised them somehow, making them seem more like dummies, or extras in a hospital drama, than real people.  
  
At least he wasn't like them, trapped in his own body. He could still move, still feel his hands and feet pulling at the restraints tying him to the bed. He could feel the itch and pull of the needles in his arms and the uncomfortable ache of the tubes in his body. He was alive and awake. He would get through this, he just had to hold on.  
  
He could still feel it, the fear that gripped his chest tight, the creature there in the dark with him. Worse though, were the moments when he wasn't so sure he was awake at all. When his mind drifted and the fear became too much.  
  
What if he had already let go, was already asleep and dreaming, trapped forever in a nightmare, no hope of rescue, no light ever again? When those moments came he would scream, long, unbroken, until he ran out of air or his throat hurt too much to continue. Then he would finally lapse back into silence, only his own ragged breaths for company, only the aches of his own body keeping him tethered to sanity in the dark.  
  
Michael shifted uneasily, feeling the familiar fear rising again and trying to hold it back. He had no idea how long he had been here, or if he was ever going to get out again. All he knew was that no matter what they said, the people who took him were going to pay.  
  
Torchwood was going to pay.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I believe that half the time, I am a wolf among the sheep, gnawing at the wool over my ryes.”  
> Panic! at the Disco

Hugh pulled the Land Rover over into the drive of the house and switched off the engine. Wherever they were going had to be within a reasonable distance of the place so it had seemed a logical place to start.   
  
“Captain,” Johnson said, not even turning to see Jack wedged in next to Tom and Pugh in the back seat. “Let's see if we can't give our intrepid leader a nice surprise and find this place before the Geek Squad can, shall we?”  
  
Grinning, Jack nodded and swung his way out of the vehicle, grateful to be able to stretch his legs. The drive hadn't been that long, and it wasn't as if there wasn't any leg room, not exactly, but having Tom sat nearby had made the drive seem twice as long. Neither of them were mentioning Martha, or the punch Jack had received, but it was still hanging between them, silent and heavy in the small space.  
  
Breathing deeply in the fresh air, Jack waved at the other Land Rovers as they pulled up, then carried on into the house, slipping his ear piece in as he went and flicking it onto their team's channel. “Radio check.”  
  
“Loud and clear, Captain,” Johnson's voice replied as he focused on navigating the hallway and rooms of the house. It was completely different in the day time, the creepy atmosphere completely chased away by the sunlight creeping in through the gaps in the boarded up windows and bouncing off the bare and wallpaper striped walls. Making his way to the kitchen, Jack hurried over to the pipe he had located as the source of the gas last time, and crouched down in front of it. It only took a few seconds for him to make sure it was dormant then focus on scanning the pipe itself.  
  
The trace of gas was gone now, long since dissipated, but the pipe remained. It took him a few minutes of playing with his wrist strap but he finally managed to get the readings he needed.  
  
“Okay, looks like this pipe extends for a mile north of here, then turns off somewhere.”  
  
“Can you trace it further than that?”  
  
“I'm painting the target now,” Jack said, pressing a button on his wrist strap and a very faint and rising hum filled the air for a few seconds before fading away, drifting higher through his hearing until it vanished. “Okay, signal sent, the metal in the pipe will be resonating for the next maybe thirty minutes at most, I can trace it until then.”  
  
“Acknowledged, get back here, we're moving out.”  
  
“On my way.” Rising to his feet again, Jack closed the cover on his wrist strap, and grinned to himself as he turned and ran from the house. The chase was on again and he had to admit, as much as he was worried about what lay ahead, both for him and Ianto and all of the team, there was no denying a simple truth.  
  
He'd missed this.  
  
****************************************  
  
Lila tried to sit still in the van, the three seats at the front full of her and her team. Dave was driving, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, and John was in the middle, leaving her free to stare out the window and have a little extra space. Not that she needed it; John had written her off as a lost cause long ago and, unlike his behaviour with most of the team, he maintained a respectful distance from her. Instead, he was leaning in close to Dave, openly watching him as he drove and dropping lewd suggestions about gear sticks and leather driving gloves.  
  
Ignoring them both, she flicked out the small compact from her trouser pocket and checked her reflection as best she could in the moving van. Her eye was swollen, there was no denying it, but it was only noticeable if you looked for too long. Her disguise of foundation took care of the red, grey and blue under her eye; the thick eyeliner, mascara, and sweeps of blacks and greys over her eyelid, covered the rest. As long as it didn't turn purple before she had a chance to go home and raid the rest of her make up collection, she would be fine.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Lila jumped at the question, snapping the compact shut and nodding as John smiled at her, his customary leer gone and something approximating genuine concern showing. “Yeah.”  
  
“Put something cold on that again later, finish bringing it out properly, then once the swelling's fully up come see me, I have something that'll help.” At her incredulous look, he smiled. “What, I'm serious, you travel as much as I do, and get punched in the face as often, you pick up some tricks that  _are_  actually legal.” Reaching out, he took hold of her face and gently tilted it with his fingertip, assessing both Ianto's handiwork and her own in covering it up again. “Didn't think the kid had it in him.”  
  
“Neither did I,” she admitted quietly, twisting out of his grasp and staring straight ahead.  
  
“Least we won't underestimate him again.”  
  
“That's for sure.”  
  
“Until the next time anyway.”  
  
Laughing, she nodded and drummed her fingertips against the door frame, watching as their destination came into view. “Let's just hope he hasn't overestimated us.”  
  
“Look, I'll get you in, then you can do your stuff, then we can all go get very, very drunk.”  
  
“That sounds like a plan to me.”  
  
“And then an orgy.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Grinning wickedly, John shrugged. “Hey, you're Torchwood now kid, gotta take one for the team.”  
  
Rolling her eyes, Lila released her seatbelt as they pulled up and made sure her fake ID was clipped in place. “How about you take my one for me, and I won't tell anyone about that live webcam site you're a member of?”  
  
“Wait, you watch those things?” Dave asked, shutting off the engine. John snorted derisively and shook his head.  
  
“Watch? As if. Mate, I'm one of their biggest stars.”  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Andrew watched curiously as a strange man in a long blue coat jumped out of a Land Rover and, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the few passers by, crouched down by a manhole cover. Frankie, Andrew's dog, whined impatiently and pulled at his lead, making him look down again and shh him. By the time he looked up again the man was jumping back into the vehicle and it was on its way again.  
  
Crossing over to that side of the street, Andrew swore as two more of the big vehicles zoomed past, and looked down at the manhole cover, tapping it with the toe of his trainer. It was still firmly in place.  
  
Frankie whined, pulling on his lead and refusing to go near the metal. “Come on you daft dog, what's the matter with you?” Pulling hard on the lead, Frankie kept scrabbling backwards and Andrew finally sighed and gave in, crossing back over, watching as the Labrador calmed down again. “There, happier now?” Frankie looked up at him with what looked like a silly grin on his face and bounded off happily down the path to home, almost pulling Andrew over in his haste. “Hey slow down!”  
  
By the time he got home, he had forgotten all about the strangers and the manhole cover, and when Mrs Brown from number 52 walked little Percy over the same manhole cover an hour later, his only reaction was a quick sniff at the plate, before marking his territory on the lamppost as usual.  
  
**************************************  
  
Cathy was bored. Reception duties were interesting enough most days, but the end of the week was always quieter here. There was a limit to how many games of solitaire she could play, her magazine was already in the bin and the phones were silent for once; the unexpected blackout the night before had knocked out the telephone hub and switchboard, as well as affecting the building's computer servers.   
  
A printout of the day's diary had been done the night before though and had been sitting in the printer tray for her this morning. Just the usual mix of appointments for the various businesses operating out of the centre, a couple for Enterprise Treasures Shipping, or ET Shipping as they were usually abbreviated to, some interviewees for the recruitment firm on the upper level and a post it note had been stuck on her monitor saying the IT firm would be sending someone to fix the servers, hopefully first thing.  
  
She'd believe that when she saw it. The usual guy, Bob, was never around when they really needed him.  
  
So it was with some surprise that she looked up to find three uniformed people walking into her reception, their T-shirts and ID's proclaiming them to be from the IT company. The young woman took the lead, her short hair looking slightly purple in the light as she smiled broadly, checking her clipboard and handing over her ID card.  
  
“Hi, we're from Tech Mech, we got a call about your servers being down? I think it was... Darren called it in?”  
  
“That's great, can I get you to sign in please?” Pointing to the visitors' book, she smiled politely at the younger man who looked a little nervous, but then felt her grin grow broader as she spotted the other man behind him. There was something about the way he was looking at her, and those cheekbones...  
  
“Do you need our phone number as well with this?” He asked, his eyebrow rising in what was unmistakeably a come on, making her blush a little.  
  
“We've got your company number, so that's fine.”  
  
“Let me just leave my home one as well,” he practically purred, his fingers moving quickly over the edge of the book. “Just in case you need to...” handing her back the book, he pushed it into her hands until his fingers brushed over hers. “Call me sometime.”  
  
“I, uh...” Taking the book, she quickly put it back under the counter and busied herself writing out their visitor passes. “Right, you will need to wear these whilst you're in the building, I'll just get someone to take you through-”  
  
“There's no need,” the younger man started even as the woman spoke over him.  
  
“That would be lovely, thanks.”  
  
As she turned her attention to her mobile, sighing at having to use her own phone to buzz through and hoping they would be able to fix the systems soon, she dialled the number for Darren in Recruitment Rangers and frowned when he didn't pick up. “Sorry, won't be a moment.”  
  
“Take your time love,” the good looking man said smoothly, leaning on her counter and grinning at her in a way that made her want to get him out of there soon, before she dragged him across the desk and began doing things to him that would most definitely get her fired.  
  
It would almost be worth it though...  
  
“You know what, it's not hard to find,” Cathy managed to get out, hanging up the unanswered call. “I'll let you through, it's just go to the left, then right, and follow the stairs down to the basement. It's the third door in the corridor, they left it unlocked for you anyway.” Hurrying across the reception, she placed her ID card flat against the card reader and as soon as the green light flashed, pushed the door open for them.  
  
“Left, right, basement, third door. Thanks very much!” The woman grinned as she walked past, the nervous looking man right behind her and finally-  
  
“Yes, thank you for your help,” the good looking man said with what was positively a leer, his body so close to hers as he slipped past her to the doorway that she could almost feel the heat of him, his eyes boring into hers as his fingers brushed lightly over her hand, still holding her ID card and hovering by the reader.   
  
“You're welcome,” she said as he finally moved away and she let go of the door, almost feeling like she needed to shake her head like a lovestruck character in a cartoon. Making her way back over to the reception desk, she sat down, a huge grin on her face.  
  
Looked like it might not be such a boring day after all...  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Tim fidgeted in the back of the Land Rover, his fingers moving restlessly over his borrowed jacket, the dark fabric leaching what little traces of colour he had from his skin and making him seem even paler than usual. The jacket was at least one size too big for his slender frame and he couldn't seem to get it to sit right on his shoulders. Giving up, he instead began checking out all the pockets, pulling his bag up from the footwell and emptying out its contents and transferring them to the jacket instead, much to the soldiers' amusement.  
  
“Only carry what's essential,” Big Ears suggested at last, reaching out and taking several half packets of gum off the technician. “Stick to nicotine, the rest will be here when you get back.”  
  
“Yeah, but will I be?” Tim said with a fierce grin, his eyes shining a touch too much for this early in the morning – especially after the night they had had. The kid was too wired, his eyes shining with the gleam that Big Ears recognised all too well as the look of an adrenaline junkie. Just what he needed; he already felt like he was babysitting an extra from a Tim Burton movie. Leaning in closer, Big Ears pulled Tim's phone from his pocket and slipped it back into the bag, but used the move to disguise a whisper, lost in the noise of the car's engine.  
  
“Calm down, okay? Just stay cool, no John Wayne shit, you do what we say, when we say.” Nodding quickly, Tim fiddled with the packet of nicotine gum before putting yet another piece in his mouth. “And for God's sake don't OD on that stuff before we even get there.”  
  
“Sorry,” Tim whispered back, sitting still as Big Ears practically frisked him as he double checked Tim's pockets and weeded out a comic book and a lighter, returning them to the bag. “I'm just a little psyched to be going on a real mission.”  
  
“I know, but you're starting to give off a weird 'I'd like to get shot just to know how it feels' vibe that creeps people out.”  
  
“Sorry.” Tim grinned, the look really not helping him look any saner, and snatched back a notebook just before Big Ears discarded it. “I'm gonna need that, it's got my notes on the cryogenics chambers in.”  
  
“Okay, the notebook stays. But nothing else that isn't essential.”  
  
“No worries, and thanks for the loan of the jacket, I mean I own a lot of black but this stuff feels a bit more impressive, is there like armour in here? Almost seems gooey somehow.”  
  
“Bulletproof gel,” Big Ears stated simply and sat back in his seat. “And it's not my jacket, it's Sam's.”  
  
He wasn't expecting Tim's hand to snake out and find his, fingers wrapping around his and squeezing tight in a move that he should have found threatening or at least a come on, considering the source, but instead felt completely normal, just the way Sam's hand did in his. It just felt right and he squeezed back.  
  
“He's going to be okay,” Tim whispered softly, that grin still infectious and honest on his face. “I promise.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
Shrugging, Tim pulled a face. “I just do, I feel it. Don't you?”  
  
“I... I don't know.”  
  
“Sure you do,” Tim said, squeezing his fingers once more then letting go, digging back into his bag again. “Tell you what,” he said more loudly, drawing the others' attention, “I am so confident that your brother will be fine that I will bet...” his head seemed to vanish into the bag, the black of his hair and the jacket blending with the bag to make one dark shape.   
  
“Ah ha!” Triumphant, Tim pulled back, then frowned as he took in the note he had found. “Okay, so I only got dollars on me right now, but I bet $10, that's gotta be what, about £5? I bet that not only will your brother wake up, but he will be sat up in bed flirting with at least one member of staff by the time we get back.”  
  
In spite of himself, Big Ears laughed, the sound odd but at the same time much needed, even in his own head, the tension he had been carrying around easing just for a second as he snatched the note from Tim's fingers. Making a big show of checking it out in the light, he handed it back reluctantly before digging a five pound note out of his own pocket.  
  
“It's a bet. But,” he added quickly, “I reckon he will be out of bed and stumbling around heroically, just to get sympathy.”  
  
“Sounds good to me!” Tim said, opening his notebook and tucking the notes in the back before writing down the bet.  
  
“Is this a private bet or can anyone join in?” Bill called from the front, nodding to Ben who sighed and dug around in his pockets for ten pounds for them to stake too. “'Cos I reckon he'll be fast asleep, just waiting for his big brother to come give him a kiss like sleeping fucking beauty.”  
  
Laughter rang out again before Ben twisted in his seat, holding out the note to Tim but his eyes on Big Ears as he smiled. “I bet he will wake up whilst we are still on site and insist on being driven here to join in. You know how much he hates being left out of things.”  
  
“Yeah,” Big Ears said softly, nodding his thanks as Ben twisted round again. Big leaned closer to Tim again. “Hey, when we get in there, you stick close to me, okay? I'll get you out of there in one piece, I promise.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“I just feel it,” Big Ears mocked before smiling smugly. “And because I'm a bloody ninja. Besides,” he added, “gotta make sure you get out alright; you're carrying my winnings.”  
  
**************************************** ****  
  
“That was-”  
  
“Impressive?” John guessed, still grinning, slipping his wrist strap out of his trouser pocket and sliding it back around his wrist. “Masterful? Inspiring? A pleasure to watch?”  
  
“Actually I was going to go for sickening,” Lila said quickly, following the directions and speeding them down to the basement as quickly as they could without drawing any attention to themselves.  
  
“Oh come on, you loved it really.”  
  
“You are just so-”  
  
“Talented?”  
  
“Smarmy.”  
  
“You're just jealous.”  
  
“Of you?” Lila laughed as she pushed through the door to the stairs and skipped down them lightly, her tool kit in her hand jingling with the move. “Oh puh-lease.”  
  
“Hey, if you need any pointers just let me know.”  
  
“For empty air heads like that? No thanks, I prefer my women less-” pushing through the basement door, she hesitated before looking back over her shoulder. “Gullible.”  
  
“Whatever works sweetheart,” John replied, slipping a small plastic ID card out of his pocket and twirling it through his fingers, the circuitry on one side exposed. “I got the right frequency for her ID card, this thing should now be primed and ready to go.”  
  
“The altered diary is on her desk already, looks like she picked it up from the printer as planned,” Dave added, “gotta love networked printers, so easy to hack.” He followed Lila into the dark and utilitarian service corridor, simple concrete and plaster and heavy doors defining the path.   
  
“Looks like the others shouldn't have any problems then,” Lila said, stopping in front of the server room door and pushing it open. “Unlocked, just like she said.”  
  
“Better get to work then,” John said, giving them both a gentle push on the back and encouraging them into the room before shutting the door behind them and crouching down to look at the lock. “High tech security indeed, a yale lock.” Sighing, he reached into the small tool bag Dave passed him and pulled out a lock pick tool, setting to work fixing the lock so it wouldn't open from the outside, even with the key. “I miss a proper challenge sometimes.”  
  
“Come on Dave,” Lila said, looking up at the computer server towers and wires and shrugging. “There's no way our guy will be stupid enough to have his main server in the same room as everyone else's, but his internet feed must come out of here and get to it, let's start looking.”  
  
“Okay.” As they began searching through the room, following wires and cables, Dave looked back at John as he finished locking the door behind them. “One thing I don't get, how did you know she would go for it?”  
  
“Go for what?” John asked, distracted as he flicked open his wrist strap and joined the search.  
  
“Go for, well, you.”  
  
Laughing, John shook his head slightly. “She never stood a chance mate, natural charm, you've either got it or you haven't.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, John looked up from his wrist strap. “But just in case, I hit her with a dose of extra strong, irresistible pheromones. Any woman who likes blokes can't resist.”  
  
“And any woman who doesn't like blokes just thinks you smell,” Lila added, her eyes following a junction of cables up to the false ceiling of the room. “Here, I think I've got it.”  
  
The two men hurried to join her, John checking out the space before nodding. “Should be able to follow it through the ceiling panels, easy peasy.”  
  
“For you maybe,” Dave muttered, watching as John took a screwdriver from Lila's tool kit and used it to poke the corner of a ceiling tile enough to push it sideways, exposing the small void between the rooms ceiling and the real one. “But, what if she hadn't gone for it?”  
  
Crouching down, John steadied himself before jumping up, his fingers catching on to the edges of the metal surrounding the ceiling tile and hoping it held his weight. Hanging for a few seconds, he paid attention to every creak and vibration of the metal, reassuring himself it was solid, then began pulling himself up. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked around and grinned as he spotted a narrow metal walkway above the room's lights. Jackpot.  
  
Reaching his hand down for his bag, he grinned as Dave passed it up and shrugged. “If she hadn't gone for it, it would have been plan L.”  
  
“Plan L?”  
  
“Plan Lila,” she explained, a small smile on her face.  
  
“Yeah, you can call it that too,” John said quickly, pulling himself up into the ceiling and flashing one last grin down at them. “Now, you kiddies have fun, I'll be back in a bit! I'd say don't do anything I wouldn't do, but I don't think I have anything to worry about with you two.”  
  
Lila contented herself with simply flipping him off as the ceiling panel slid back into place before turning her attention back to the servers before her. “Right, whilst he finds the right system, we'd better get plan B in place. Hacking in long enough to crash the servers last night was one thing, now we need something a little more controllable.” Hoisting her tool kit, she grinned as she looked up at the computer towers. “Time to put a few Gremlins in the works...”  
  
**************************************** *************  
  
Jack hurried back into the Land Rover and shook his head. “We're out of luck, the pipe's changed metal, I can't get the same resonance up, it's confusing it with the others in the network. But we're getting closer, I'm starting to pick up traces of infrasound.”  
  
“Can you track it?”  
  
Shaking his head, Jack stared out at the fields around them. “No, there's too much interference, infrasound can be created naturally by weather systems, Wind Turbines, I'm not sure what I'm picking up but there's no clear signal. It was a long shot.”  
  
“Never mind,” Johnson said, checking her map. “We're closer than we were, hopefully the other teams will have an exact location for us soon.” Sighing, she looked up again and around them at the fields then shrugged. “Pit stop boys; pee if you need to, smoke if you got 'em, but be ready to move out.”  
  
Jack watched as her instructions were relayed to the other vehicles and people started to emerge, stretching and jogging off into the fields for some privacy. He was tempted to go too, just to stretch his legs, but then realised Tom was still in the car, checking his medical kit yet again.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Nodding, Tom closed up his bag but continued to face forward, avoiding Jack. Sighing, Jack opened the door and slid out into the fresh air, feeling the breeze on his face and whipping the back of his coat up. It was going to be a beautiful day.  
  
He just hoped they would all get through it okay.  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Captain John Hart was not claustrophobic; sometimes he actually quite enjoyed being in a very constricted space, especially with a little bit of restraint and maybe some short sharp shocks involved too. But this was far from ideal, even for him, and he bit back an oath as he wriggled along the narrow path, pausing as he felt the metal flex beneath him. It wasn't designed to hold a human body but was stronger than the rest of the ceiling so would have to do. His one consolation was that if he did fall through, the rooms down here were all basic and hopefully empty. As long as he didn't do any serious damage he should be alright.  
  
Damage to his ego would be quite another matter though.  
  
Following the makeshift path, John grinned as he caught a faint shimmer of blue out of the corner of his eye and spotted the cables passing through a square hole in the building's wall. Straight on, it just looked like a normal access point, so normal his eyes seemed to want to ignore it completely, but when he looked out of the corner of his eye he could see a very faint blue sheen to the hole.  
  
“Perception filter, nice touch,” he muttered to himself, spreading his weight over the metal as best he could as he drew within arms reach of the hole. Twisting onto his back, he looked up at the hole and flicked open his wrist strap. “And forcefield with a molecular key, someone's been stealing from the Judoon.” Stretching as best he could and cracking his knuckles, John reached into the small tool bag he had brought with him and pulled out a long curved tool. It was a matt silver, dull in the dim space, and had a large number of tiny bumps along its edge, like a bizarre musical instrument.  
  
Leaning up above his head, John aimed the device at the forcefield and grinned as he switched it on, his fingertips moving over the array of bumps and buttons with an ease speaking of a long history with this device – or at least, others of the same ilk.  
  
“Once a thief, always a thief,” John muttered to himself as he played the sophisticated lock pick, watching as small lights along its length danced with the pattern of the field's frequencies. “51st Century, 21st Century, all the same, just the shape of the lock changes.” Frowning at the readings on the device, he raised an eyebrow in surprise.   
  
“I take it back, you boys have been getting ahead of yourselves. 29th century tech, now that's just cheating. But,” he added as he moved his fingers along the tool, grimacing as he concentrated, “if I can break into Storm Cage just because I never could say no to a pretty face, I can certainly manage-” he grinned as the lights flashed orange in a strobing pattern then stilled, the space shimmering bright blue for a second then flaring out. “You. Nice try boys.”  
  
Shifting back onto his front, John slid his tool back into his kit and slithered through the small hole into the wall itself. The space was a tight fit, but he managed to wriggle his way through, his head finally banging against a metal panel overlooking a room beyond, soft red lighting illuminating the mass of server towers – and another set of security systems just waiting to be tripped.  
  
Wriggling his arms out in front of him to the panel, John looked down over the room and grinned. Motion detectors, bio sensors, pressure sensitive flooring, video cameras, it was state of the art.  
  
And barely a challenge.  
  
Checking the time, John nodded to himself and set to work. Quarter of an hour down already, he had to pick up the pace to make sure the geeks had enough time to do their thing.  
  
And get out again afterwards with any luck...  
  
**************************************** *  
  
Lila was starting to worry; John had been gone for almost forty minutes and they still hadn't heard anything from him. She had tried hacking into the system from outside, from within the networks of the other companies inside the building, but their defences were too strong. Instead all she could do was sit and wait, watch the hacked CCTV feed coming through to her souped up way beyond the recommended specs iPad, and hope that John could get them through to the main system.  
  
Preferably before Dave went crazy.  
  
“This isn't working, we're gonna get caught.”  
  
“Dave, shut up and just sit tight.”  
  
“We're locked in, we've no idea where he is, if he can even break in, let alone get back out again to let us through, and even if he does get us in, there's no guarantee that we can even hack this system and find the information the others need, and if we get caught-”  
  
Clamping her hand flat over his mouth, Lila sighed and wrapped an arm around his chest from behind, hugging him tight. “Dave. Shut. Up.”  
  
Nodding, he mumbled something into her hand and she reluctantly let go so he could say it again. “Sorry.”  
  
“Look, just calm down, John may be a smarmy git but he also knows what he's doing. Mostly. When it comes to the dodgy stuff anyway.”  
  
“What, you mean, sex wise?”  
  
Laughing, Lila pushed him away. “Ewww, no, I mean being a crook.”  
  
“Oh,” crestfallen, Dave leaned against the door. “Well, I've heard the rumours about him obviously, but I never know which are true. I mean, he definitely isn't from around here-”  
  
“By around here,” Lila asked, her concentration diverted to another server as she decided to add one more bug into the system, “do you mean Wales, UK or the 21st Century?”  
  
“All of the above,” Dave admitted. “I mean, his accent's English, but I can't see him growing up around here. And his stuff-”  
  
“Future tech,” Lila said absentmindedly, “he's from the future. So's his gear. Mostly. From what I can figure out, he didn't bring much with him, and I don't know if he came here intending to stay or got stuck here, but, as you say, he most definitely isn't from around here.”  
  
“How you know he's from the future?”  
  
Lila finished her work and reached into the cables and wire, placing a small electronic device in amongst them and priming it. “I-”  
  
Dave jumped as a loud knocking came through the door, a familiar pattern that saw Lila hurry past him to the door, flicking the catch and opening it. Captain John Hart grinned at her, gesturing over his shoulder and nodding to her. “Got it, but I can't keep it open for long, grab your stuff and get a move on.”  
  
Hurrying, they grabbed their gear and followed him into the corridor, running after him to the nondescript door at the end, wedged open. As soon as they were in, John pulled the door shut behind them and ran past them to a cabinet against the wall. “Okay kids, up you go.”  
  
Looking up at the ceiling, Dave took in the open ceiling panel and paled. “Oh, man...”  
  
“Come on Dave, I'll help you up,” Lila said, hurrying past him and pulling herself up onto the cabinet. Raising her arms up into the ceiling void, she jumped, hoisting herself up and wincing as she wriggled into the small space. “Fuck, it's not exactly spacious up here.”  
  
“You've not got far to go, head right towards the wall and look out for the hole. Wait by it for me,” John said quickly, shoving his hand up to grab Dave's arse and help push him up into the hole.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Keep the noise down you idiot and get moving,” John snarled, pushing harder and rolling his eyes. “It's practical, not a come on, I'm not interested.”  
  
“You're lucky Dave, that makes you about the only other person in the office he's not interested in,” Lila joked, her hands wrapping around Dave's arms to help pull him up.  
  
“Great,” Dave managed to get out as he slithered ungainly through the hole and into the small space. “So not only am I not cute enough even for Captain Hart to go for, I'm risking my life crawling through, ugh, what is this crap?”  
  
“Dust,” John explained, his head rising up through the open panel. “Will you two get a bloody move on, I couldn't trick the system for that long, we've only got a few minutes to get in there.”  
  
Scrambling around on the fragile panels, Lila crawled over to the hole in the wall and moved herself out the way alongside it as Dave and John joined her. John went through first, Lila watching him wriggle through the hole and call back to them. Slipping through the hole after him, Lila felt a shiver of something pass through her, like a crackle of energy or a tickle along the back of her neck, then it was gone and she found herself emerging into a dark space above another room.  
  
John was lowering himself down from the hole, a metal panel on the floor by his feet, before he reached up to help guide Lila down.   
  
“Stay exactly where I put you, both of you, and don't move, got it?”  
  
Nodding as she dropped to the floor, Lila stood as still as she could and looked around the room. It was dimly lit, a dull red glow illuminating a plain white floor and walls, familiar stacks of servers and some equipment she didn't recognise filling the space.  
  
“John, what-”  
  
John ignored her as he helped Dave down, slapping the side of his arse to get him to move aside as soon as he was on his feet, before John grabbed the panel and leaped back up to the hole, snapping it into place. Pointing a strange tool at it, Lila watched as a faint ripple seemed to go through the metal. Turning around, John grabbed their bags from the floor and nodded towards the center of the room.  
  
“Step where I step, and nowhere else.” With a confused glance at each other, Lila and Dave carefully hurried after John, matching his nonsensical gait as he walked wide legged across the room. Once in the center, he once again made sure they were exactly where he wanted them.   
  
“What now?”  
  
With a grin, John opened his wrist strap and handed them back their bags. “Now, look at your feet, whatever you do don't step off the black tiles.”  
  
“Black?” Dave asked, looking at the white floor, “what do you mean, all the tiles are-” A soft hum filled their ears as the room seemed to shift somehow, the lights changing from muted red to bright white, even as the floor changed from white to black and white, chequered like a chessboard. “Wow.”  
  
“Definitely,” Lila breathed quietly, looking around her at the concentration of black squares in front of the main access points.  
  
“Perception filter combined with cloaking technology, mix of basic 23rd century camouflage system and 34th century psychic hardware,” John explained. “Whoever this lot are, they are very serious about computer security. You literally can't see that there's anything on the floor until you've already stepped on the wrong thing and triggered the alarms.”  
  
“Seems a little daft, why not just have guards or something? And how did you know the right way to go?”  
  
“Oh puhlease, I had better camouflage than that in my toys as a kid, easy to spot. Kinda like those weird Magic Eye things you lot went for a few years ago, once you've trained yourself to see it, you get it every time.”  
  
“I never could manage those,” Lila said as she looked around the room and identified the most likely terminal, her professional demeanour snapping back into place. “Right, black squares only?”  
  
“Yeah, stay off the white, they are pressure sensitive and I can't take them offline without alerting the whole place. Just don't drop anything.”  
  
“I'll try,” Lila said, tip toeing her way across the floor to the terminal and looking it over. “Anything I should know about?”  
  
“Oddly enough, looks like standard encryption stuff on their software, I'm guessing they only have access to certain tech and use what they can.”  
  
“Excellent.” Getting a small device out of her tool bag, Lila placed it alongside the terminal and switched it on, the touchscreen flickering before springing into life on its own. As the device overrode the security lock outs, she beckoned Dave over and watched as he dug into his own bag, getting out a small hand held computer and a long lead and connecting himself up to the device.  
  
“Synching...”  
  
“Right,” Lila said, watching as the screen slowed down its race through the system and took a deep breath. “Let's see if we can find what we're looking for...”  
  
**********************************  
  
Lila frowned as she searched through the system, pulling up all the information she could that might lead to the location of the warehouse; invoices, company memos and emails, any maps in the system- “I might have it,” she said at last, flicking through another layer of information and watching the device click in even as the encryption tried to lock her out again, her fingers flying over the controls in time with the little box to find the correct sequence. Unlocked, the data opened before her. “Got it, you want co-ordinates?”  
  
“Go for it,” John said, his wrist strap open and ready as he typed in the numbers as she read them out and pressed send, alerting Johnson's team to their final location. “Okay, got it. I can give you another twenty, thirty minutes in here, max, get anything else you can and let's get out of here.”  
  
Nodding, Lila glanced at Dave and gave him a tight smile before diving back into the system. They had the information the others needed to get moving; now to try and figure out exactly what else these people had got their hands on...


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.”  
> George S Patten

Anwen smiled as she looked up from the Reception desk, the hospital tannoy making yet another polite announcement somewhere above her head that she tuned out automatically. She focused instead on the woman approaching her, a baby carrier complete with sleeping infant hooked over her arm. “Good morning, Ms-”   
  
“Williams,” the woman said smoothly, smiling and showing a small gap between her front teeth as she pushed a stray lock of dark hair back from her face. “Gwen Williams, and this is Angharad, she has an appointment to see Doctor Matthews.”   
  
“Of course, let me just check that for you.” Turning back to her computer, she missed the woman glance around the reception area, her eyes lingering a fraction too long on a couple of the other patients. “Oh, that's odd...” Frowning, Anwen tried another search, shifting through the calendars for the next few days- “Oh. Um, I've found your appointment, but it appears to be for next week-”   
  
“What?” Gwen said loudly, leaning over the counter as if to see the screen, her hand resting on the back of it. “But that's impossible, I was referred by Doctor Harding, my GP, he said she had to be seen as soon as possible, that's the whole reason we went private, and now you're telling me I've been moved back a week?” Her tone was angry, her whole body going rigid as she accidentally jostled the baby in her chair, making it squirm a little. “I don't believe this! We've come all the way up here, I've taken time off work just to make sure I can be here with her, we were promised an appointment today and now this?”   
  
Anwen quickly turned back to the computer double checking. “I'm very sorry Mrs Williams-”   
  
“Ms.”   
  
“But it looks as though your GP must have made a mistake-”   
  
“No, I'll tell you who made a mistake!” She shouted, the baby waking up and starting to fuss. “You lot have made a big mistake, I expect this sort of nonsense from the NHS but at the prices you're charging you can just cancel someone else and get me in to see Doctor Matthews right now!”   
  
The baby started crying, shrill and angry, and Anwen grabbed for her phone, the noise cutting right through her as Ms Williams put the carrier down and released the child, pulling it into her arms and comforting it.   
  
“Hi Claire, it's Anwen down on reception, I've got a lady here whose daughter has an appointment with Doctor Matthews but we have it down as next week and she was told today-”   
  
“I wasn't just told today, it IS today!”   
  
“-Does he have any slots in his diary today at all?”   
  
“My appointment was for ten am-”   
  
“Preferably this morning? Yes, I'll hold, thanks Claire-” Holding the phone against her shoulder, Anwen frowned inwardly as an older, distinguished looking lady approached the desk, holding out an ID card.    
  
“Doctor Grace Stephens, Guys and St Thomas' London, I'm here for a meeting with Doctor Evans.”   
  
Nodding distractedly, the baby getting a good wind up and really starting to go for it now, Anwen took the ID card and checked the computer even as the soothing hold music trickling into her ear began to annoy her. There, the computer had the meeting listed. Clicking a button to set the printer whirring, she turned away from the desk for a few seconds to grab the sheet of paper, her fingers finding the pre-set perforations and tearing them with ease.   
  
Slipping the sheet into a plastic holder, she turned back and held it out to the Doctor who accepted it and smiled. “Thank you, if you could buzz me through, I know the way.”   
  
Nodding, Anwen reached under the desk for the button, her eyes watching closely as Doctor Stephens made her way to the secure entrance to the wards.   
  
“Excuse me, but in case you haven't noticed, we're still here!” Ms Jones yelled. Anwen watched as Doctor Stephens pushed the door, the wood moving freely under her fingers, and let go of the button, her attention drifting back to her waiting and very impatient patient. “I mean, what am I going to do, hey? Just get back in my car and go? This is my daughter's health we're talking about and I will sit here for as long as it takes-”   
  
Anwen glanced back at the door, watching it click closed again and then frowned as the hold music clicked off, holding her hand up. “Hi Claire? You sure, nothing sooner? Okay, thanks.”   
  
Taking a deep breath, she smiled as politely as she could up at Ms Jones, and prepared to let her know the bad news that there was nothing until Midday.    
  
She didn't notice the small smile on the woman's face though, nor did she notice that one of her patients who had been sitting in the reception, a smartly dressed black woman, had vanished.   
  
****************************************   
  
Lois stayed close beside Grace, trying to match her stride and, more importantly, her posture and the attitude that said she belonged there. A fake ID tag around her neck was a copy of Grace's Guys and St Thomas' pass and they hoped it would be enough to pass a quick glance; her lack of a visitors pass had been remedied by snagging a blank pass from the printer whilst the receptionist had been occupied with Gwen. It was incomplete, but by tucking it half under her fake ID it was close enough to pass a quick glance.   
  
Which was hopefully all they would need. Making their way quickly down the hallways, Lois finally spotted an empty office and touched Grace's arm, pulling her over to it and using what Tim had called a 'skeleton key' on the door. The key looked perfectly normal but, once it was in the lock, she pressed hard on a ring on its handle and heard an odd snapping noise. Turning it, the door opened and she hurried them inside, pulling it closed after them.   
  
The computer was idle, the screensaver gliding lazily across the dark monitor, but a twitch of the mouse was enough to bring it online again, the password screen waiting patiently for input. They only had one password hacking device so far, so it had fallen on a more old fashioned approach to finding a password on this part of the mission; cheating.   
  
Pulling out her phone, Lois tapped at the screen until an image of the receptionist's screen came up, courtesy of a small bug clipped onto the back of the monitor by Gwen. They could now read keystrokes and see what she was seeing. Perfect.   
  
“Entry team,” she said into a microphone hidden behind her jacket's lapel, “stage 2.” Sitting back, Lois glanced at the door nervously, waiting as the team in reception did their task and-   
  
There. The receptionist's screen went black, the power cut to her PC for just a few seconds and enough to need her to restart the PC.    
  
“Lois,” Dr Stephens warned, placing her back flat against the wall, and Lois ducked down under the desk, hardly daring to breathe. “Okay, they've gone. If we could hurry this up though...”   
  
Nodding, Lois scrambled back into the desk chair and checked her phone again, grinning as the log in box came up, the device capturing the receptionist's username and password. “Got it.” Copying the information into the computer in front of her, Lois held her breath as the system thought about it, then the screen changed, loading up the network. “I'm in.” Clicking her way through the screen, she didn't even look up as Dr Stephens came over to watch from behind her, occasionally murmuring hints as they navigated through the system.   
  
Finally, they had it. Bringing the microphone up to her lips again and opening the channel to their team and the office, she shook her head as she spoke. “Entry team to all units; we have fifteen, repeat fifteen flowers to replant, we're heading to the garden now. Please keep us advised of the weather. Over.” Clicking it back to their own small team, she smiled. “That was a ridiculous code, but let's hope it made as little sense to anyone else as we think.”   
  
Taking a deep breath, she printed out the list of names and grabbed a clipboard from one of the office shelves, dumping the papers attached to it out of site behind some text books and putting the list on instead.    
  
“They're all on the third floor, the coma patients are in Neurology.”   
  
“Home from home,” Grace smiled, heading for the door and checking the corridor before nodding. “Let's go take care of our flowers, shall we?”   
  
**********************************   
  
Rhys Williams paced nervously in the smoking area outside the hospital, the baby carrier slung over his arm with less than his usual care. That was down to the 'baby' inside it more than any negligence on his part though. He couldn't help casting nervous glances at the hospital entrance, just waiting, hoping for-   
  
He let out a sigh of relief as Gwen appeared, an identical baby carrier over her arm, and this time he caught the thin wail of his daughter's cry as his wife hurried over. Smiling at him, she leaned in to kiss his cheek before they quickly swapped the carriers over. Rhys took Harri off her with care, making sure the handle was secure over his arm before adjusting the blanket over her.   
  
“Hey there gorgeous. How did you like your first mission, eh?”   
  
“She's a natural,” Gwen joked, pulling the blanket higher up on the carrier now tucked over her left arm. “She even cried just at the right time.”   
  
“She knows how to stay out of trouble, that's why.” Rhys looked up. “Unlike her mum.”   
  
“Rhys-”   
  
“It's okay, just go. I'll see you back at the house.” He closed his eyes as Gwen wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him in close, kissing him fiercely before burying her face in his neck.   
  
“I'll be home soon,” she promised, her breath hot on his skin.   
  
“You'd better be.”   
  
With one last hug she pulled away and strode back to the hospital, her walk somehow different to before. She was stronger, straighter, more determined and sure now she knew her daughter was safe. She was back in action, however briefly and, he hoped with all his heart, safely.   
  
Hurrying back to the car with Harri, he just hoped she wouldn't have to use any of the guns he'd just given her, tucked away in the baby carrier in her arms.   
  
******************************   
  
Jimmy Chen shifted in his seat, watching the large display screen in the conference room and the five split screens of data reflecting the various teams; four equal cubes along most of the screen and a single rolling transcript of everyone's conversations along the bottom. Every team also had their own dedicated feed, a screen showing their locations and conversations and any information they were sending back automatically or that he was adding to the system as they reported it.    
  
He had a data feed from Lila on the top left of the screen, the images and files being routed through to the main server, capturing and watching everything. Below that was an image from Johnson's camera, her Point of View played out across the screen and showing the soldiers hurrying into their vehicles and setting off again.    
  
Top right was the information from Lois at the hospital, a manual update on the positions of every team member waiting in plain sight or hidden through the building available at an instant. A wobbly camera feed, originating from a pin camera clipped to Lois' jacket was coming through, the system analysing every sign and door label and updating their records accordingly.   
  
A visual result of this was a growing map of the building, a wireframe compiled from the original plans rotating lazily with blue dots for the Torchwood team scattered over it, the main cluster in the reception. The two for Lois and Doctor Stephens were moving upwards, new labels and arrows bursting into life on the plan with each step.   
  
And bottom left was a space for a final camera feed, one that would not be activated until its wearer was safely in position within the target's lair. Speaking of which...   
  
“Base to D Team, target is located, B Team is cleaning up and the A and C Teams are on their way, you are clear to proceed.”   
  
_”Acknowledged.”_   
  
Standing up, Jimmy moved closer to the screen, opting to ignore his handheld interface now and move to the touchscreen, enjoying the chance to feel more like Neo from the Matrix or Tom Cruise from that other film. Except he strongly suspected no one was going to write a futuristic thriller where the data manipulating guy was also in possession of a bright red (and freshly refilled) bucket, not to mention in danger of passing out if he moved too quickly.   
  
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the ever present nausea away and concentrated on his task. Dave was right; it would take more than a bug to stop him taking part in this.    
  
Even if his bucket meant his unofficial callsign was now 'the Walrus'...   
  
**************************************** ****************   
  
Ianto glanced over at Cassie and caught her breathing deeply, her eyes closed and the tips of her thumbs and middle fingers pressed tightly together. He recognised the tactic as part of her centring method, the gesture discrete and one that would not be noticed but one that allowed her to focus. He waited as long as he could before reaching out and touching her shoulder lightly, his fingers brushing over the silk of her outfit and feeling the warmth of her seeping into it.   
  
“It's time.”   
  
Nodding, she took one more deep breath before opening her eyes and smiling at him tightly, her nervousness visible for a second before she focused, her face becoming a mask as she controlled her reactions, ready for the task ahead.   
  
Sliding out of the car, Ianto waited for her to join him and gave her a small smile. “You do look stunning you know.”   
  
“Why thank you,” she allowed herself to smile back, hooking her arm through his. “You look pretty smart yourself.”   
  
“I just have to ask, why-”   
  
“Did I have it with me?” At his nod, she shrugged. “Sometimes a girl needs a little glamour in her life, it can't always be business suits and smart shoes, now can it?”   
  
Grinning at the dig, Ianto scratched the now smooth line under his jaw and shrugged. “It isn't all bad.” As they drew close to the building, he let go of her arm and she drifted half a step away from him, falling behind as he reached for the door to open it for her. “It's just part of the uniform.”   
  
“The costume you mean,” she whispered back as she stepped forwards to pass him “Showtime, Mr Jones.”   
  
**************************************** ********   
  
Cathy was still distracted by thoughts of the good looking IT technician when the front door opened again and she forced herself to snap out of it. The couple walking through instinctively made her sit up straighter, her professional smile growing broader as she took in their clothing. One thing she had been surprised to learn from the movies was that you actually could spot a persons quality by their shoes, and this man was dripping with quality.   
  
Even if he did have a tiny cut on his jaw that looked as if he might have slipped whilst shaving.   
  
The suit looked less as though it had been tailored for him and more as if he had somehow been born in it, the fabric lacking the bagging and creases she had come to associate with the young men her friends kept trying to set her up with at every wedding, birthday, and impromptu dinner party she had been to that year. His beard was neatly trimmed and added an air of distinction to his features. But the scar on his cheek caught her eye, its silver line somehow suggesting a touch of danger and mystery, like something out of a Bond film.   
  
An effect, she had to admit, that was amplified rather than reduced by the woman beside him. She was stunning, her colouring exotic compared to the normal Cardiff mass of all too pale white or fake tan orange, and the way she carried herself was almost regal. She was wearing one of those traditional Indian outfits; although Cathy couldn't remember the name of it she recognised it, the trousers and long tunic type top flattering without being revealing.    
  
It was a conservative outift, but there was something about the vibrant blues of the silk and embroidery and the way she wore it that made it feel young and trendy. The scarf wrapped across her throat caught the light and Cathy suddenly felt incredibly dowdy in her plain white blouse and black pencil skirt combination, the receptionists more traditional outfit.   
  
If a camera crew had followed them in, or a car had exploded as they strolled across the lobby, or if the man had introduced himself as Jones, Ianto Jones instead of just Mr Jones she would not have been surprised. Their appearance had her imagining all sorts of action movie sequences; maybe he was an evil villain and she was his 'soon to be turned to the side of good by one kiss from the hero' assassin. Or, as he smiled at her and his eyes seemed to melt around the edges with it, he was the hero, scarred by a former battle with his arch nemesis, maybe one where the love of his life had been killed, and the woman with him now was his beautiful friend who carried an unrequited love and who would fight by his side one last time-   
  
It was official, she needed to stop reading those stupid romance novels and put her housemate on an action movie embargo for at least a month.   
  
Signing them in, she checked their appointment in the diary and ticked them off. 'Mr Jones from Universal Exports Wales to see Mr Darren Fields, Enterprise Treasures'. Well, that made sense, Enterprise Treasures were traders, they must be working on a deal together. Ringing through on her mobile to the office secretary, she watched as Mr Jones ducked his head in close to his companion's ear, whispering something that made her smile, his hand reaching out to press lightly on the small of her back. The way she leaned in closer, her eyes wide-   
  
Cathy may have been wrong about the evil villain part, but she was sure  _that_  was unrequited love. Or at the very least there was an attraction there. Maybe an old flame-   
  
As they were taken through to their appointment she watched them go and smiled to herself as she heard Rachel, PA to the sales team, offering them a tea or coffee.   
  
Tea. Now that was an idea.    
  
Buzzing one of the girls from the ground floor offices to come cover her on the desk for fifteen minutes, Cathy grabbed her mug and headed for the small kitchen, putting the kettle on and searching through the cupboards for enough clean mugs. After all, if she was thirsty by now, the three IT technicians must be too. And who knew, maybe she could get to know the handsome one just a little better...   
  
**************************************** ***   
  
Dr Grace Stephens took a deep breath as the lift pinged for the third floor, squaring her shoulders and focusing on the task ahead. This time the day before, she had simply been in surgery, worrying about nothing more than her patient and every move of her fingers, every single stroke and stitch and laser and move precise. Today she was marching into someone else's territory and saving their patients from a threat they didn't even know about.   
  
At least, that was what she was telling herself, because she really didn't want to think that any doctor would go along with this. But, with what she had been told, she was ready for a fight.   
  
Grace knew she was in good shape, not just for a forty five year old, she could regularly outclass many of her twenty something students, her body honed by years of jogging and yoga into a lean and deceptively powerful figure underneath her silvering hair. She had done martial arts in her youth, until choosing to specialise in surgery and cutting back to protect her hands.    
  
Switching karate for the piano had seemed an odd choice to her friends, but there was no denying it had helped to hone her motor skills. But more than that, it had given her an escape, a release from the stresses of the day, that she had never quite expected. Her job was stressful, tense and exhausting, and she usually welcomed the serenity of the end of the day and her empty house where she could just unwind.   
  
But this, this was a different kind of stress and unexpectedly exciting. She could feel her body preparing itself for action, ready for a fight and itching for a chance to move, to do what it came here for.   
  
Straightening her collar, she stepped out of the lift and her gaze flicked quickly over the signs and directions, honing in on her destination. This, she could do.    
  
She just hoped Tom was doing as well.   
  
**************************************** *******   
  
Big Ears glanced over at Tim as the vehicles drew up to a halt a little way away from their target and everyone started bundling out. The kid looked pale, but it was hard to see how different that was to his normal look, and his eyes were still a little too big in his face but he looked okay. He was jittery but following instructions quickly and without any hesitation which was a good sign. Hopefully he would be fine.   
  
By contrast, the doctor that had been travelling with Johnson and Jack looked perfectly relaxed, his face blank but focused as he followed Hugh closely, Pugh bringing up the rear. Doctor Milligan seemed part of the group already, blending in smoothly.    
  
Tim, on the other hand, still stood out like a sore thumb, his age if nothing else marking him out. Sighing, Big Ears hurried to stand alongside him, Bill and Ben taking positions ahead and behind them to keep an eye on the kid.    
  
“You holding up okay?” Big Ears whispered to Tim. Nodding quickly, Tim kept looking all around them, his restless energy a little off-putting as they began to move into the cover of a cluster of old and abandoned buildings. “Just remember to breathe, okay? Don't want you passing out on me.”   
  
“I'll try to remember that,” Tim whispered, trying to copy the soldiers moves and keep close to the walls. Johnson had been able to go through satellite images of the site whilst en route, picking out the most likely entrance points. The co-ordinates Lila had been able to send them pinpointed the correct warehouse but without giving them any idea of the level of security.    
  
Not that that was his team's concern; casting a glance at the building across from them, Big Ears watched as Hugh and Pugh drew Dr Milligan into a doorway and out of sight, blending into the shadows and holding position there. As they crept along their own building, they reached a similar indent and hurried into it, pushing Tim behind the three soldiers as they stood still and awaited the signal.   
  
“So what now?” Tim whispered and Big Ears could feel the slight tremble of the young man's body behind him in the tight space. Reaching a hand back, he found Tim's hand and squeezed it quickly, trying to calm him down.    
  
“We wait until Johnson and her team have penetrated the security system, and have located the creature, or the cryogenics chambers, then we head in after them. No sense endangering civilians until we have to.”   
  
“This civilian is very grateful for that,” Tim whispered back, his fingers squeezing back on Big Ears' and his body stilling a little as he settled in to wait.    
  
_”We're at the outer defences. Stand by, there's more security than we thought...”_   
  
*******************************   
  
“I'll see what I can do.” Cutting off the call from Johnson, Lila shook her head and dove deeper into the systems. “If it's not one thing it's another,” she muttered.   
  
“What's up now?” John asked.   
  
“They need an access code to the warehouse, they could override it but that might set off the alarm so....”   
  
“Oh great,” John muttered, his gaze fixed on his wrist strap. “This mission's getting worse every second we're in here, you know that right?”   
  
“No shit Sherlock, and my work rate increases ten fold when I'm not being distracted, you know  _that_  right?” Focusing on the machines again, she opened a connection between her systems and the warehouse files and grinned. “Just a little more- Got it.” Opening her microphone, she grinned. “Base, I have numbers for you, 6540.”   
  
As she finished the call, she pulled back from the warehouse databases then frowned as something caught her eye. It was almost completely hidden, tucked away in a virtual corner and designed to be inconspicuous - except for the layers of encryption around it.   
  
Which, of course, made it very conspicuous indeed...   
  
**********************************   
  
Jimmy Chen grinned as he heard Lois' voice come over the system, the blue dot that represented her now securely in the neurology ward.  _“Base, this is team C we are in position. Had a run in with a beekeeper but we are in the nursery and getting ready for transplant. Standing by for the word.”_   
  
“Acknowledged, Team A, team C are in place and awaiting your signal.”   
  
_”Acknowledged,”_  Johnson's voice came back,  _“we are heading in now. Will advise.”_  Sitting back on the desk, Jimmy pulled his bucket closer and tried to ignore the watery yet pungent smell from it. What he wouldn't give to be out there, part of the team-   
  
As his stomach lurched yet again and he buried his head in the plastic bucket, he sighed to himself. Okay, maybe not this time...   
  
***********************************   
  
Ianto took a sip of the offered tea to be polite, but hastily put it down again to focus on the sales pitch properly. This was going to be dull as anything, but he had gotten used to such things since taking over the team. Ditching Whitehall had at least cut down on the mind numbing politics, but there were always people to keep informed, UNIT to co-ordinate with, the Mr Copper foundation to keep an eye on.    
  
Putting his 'politely interested' face on, Ianto settled back and focused on the rep, Mr Fields, even as Cassie let her gaze wander to the glass partition separating them from the rest of the office. He could see out of the corner of his eye how she was taking in everyone out there, getting a base reading of the mood and general attitude. As she had explained earlier, there was no point watching the salesman at this stage; all of them lied so compulsively there would be nothing to gain.   
  
Ianto resisted the urge to groan as a display screen powered up. PowerPoint. Why did it always have to be PowerPoint? The lights lowered a little and he half tuned out, hoping that the rest of his team had everything in hand at least.   
  
***************************   
  
Sarah Thomas shifted on the doctor's couch and turned the page of the magazine spread over Noddy's chest. They had told her he liked physical contact so she had taken that literally, clambering up onto the couch beside him and cuddling up along his right hand side, pressed against him. His endorphin levels had risen slightly so she figured it was working. The talking on the other hand, she wasn't so sure about.   
  
“So then I said to him, look, you can call it what you like, but the fact is, your tongue was in her mouth and to me, that is cheating. I did first aid and I've been a carer since I was a kid and that is most definitely NOT in the CPR manual.” Scanning over the page, her fingertips following the lines of text and pressing gently against his chest, she leaned closer. “Oh, Posh Spice is pregnant again! I don't understand that, how can such a teeny tiny woman even have a baby anyway, it must be like something out of alien, all sticking out the front of her-”   
  
She looked up as the machinery beeped, a message flashing up and telling her to replace the IV fluids. Sighing, she swung her way off the couch and watched the hormone readings flash briefly as her absence was noticed. “Don't worry Sammy, I'm still here. I'm just going to do your IV. Just be grateful it's not a catheter issue, you do not want me anywhere near your dick with a tube, believe me.” Strolling around the office, she cleaned her hands then grabbed the replacement fluids and medication they had left mixed up for her, and turned her attention to his arm.    
  
“Ugh, all this high tech stuff, you'd think they would have something less needly-” she frowned, but carried on with her work. “Needly. Needle heavy. Needled- I don't know what the right word is, but the day we manage to perfect a painless injection, that's when I know we're making it as a civilisation, forget the common cold, no more crying kids is a much better idea.” Checking his lines, she paused again. “Although, if you don't like needles, maybe I should stop talking about it and distract you instead. Something happier, um...”   
  
Biting her lip as she concentrated on flushing the IV, she thought for a moment. “Um, oh, Posh's baby, yeah, so do you think it will be a boy or a girl this time? I reckon that's the only reason she keeps going, desperate for a girl. Either that or David wants to grow his own football team so someone will hire him once he's past it!” Placing a hand on Sam's arm, she smiled reassuringly even though he couldn't see. “This might be a bit uncomfortable but I'll be quick as I can, promise.”    
  
Deftly handling the equipment, she kept half an eye on the monitors for any sign she was causing him pain, carrying on chatting about possible baby names and whether Posh would be too posh to push until it was done. “There,” she said at last, patting Sam's arm gently, “told you it wouldn't be too bad. I'll just put this stuff away then I'll be right back and we can carry on chatting. If you suggest a topic, I'll happily go with it, if not, it's more celebrity gossip! I know your brother left some other magazines, but really, I am not reading that rubbish and comics, I don't know, I think they'd lose a lot if you're limited to just dialogue.”   
  
“Besides, way I figure, either you can't understand me at all, in which case I may as well read something I like, that way I won't be bored and you still get any benefit there might be from my voice. And if you can understand it, then if I am annoying you then that's all the more reason to wake up and get me to stop.” Finished at last, she hopped up onto the couch again, wriggling awkwardly on the thin strip she had until she got her balance, her leg hooked over his to hold her on. “There, back again!” The monitors beeped again and she smiled as his body reacted to her presence.   
  
“Awww, you really did miss me. It's kindof weird this, I mean, I wonder why contact helps, it's like something out of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty...” trailing off, Sarah looked guiltily around the room. The door was closed and she could hear the sound of talking outside, presumably Jimmy and the audio from the various teams, keeping them informed and organised. They were alone.   
  
“This is ridiculous...” Brushing a fingertip along his jaw, she frowned to herself. “This isn't a fairytale and I'm sure I can't just wake you with a kiss, that's stupid.” Shifting, she leaned a little closer. “Then again, being afraid of monsters in the dark is a bit fairytale anyway. And if I don't try it, and it would have worked, I'll be kicking myself.”   
  
Staring at his sleeping features, she found her gaze lingering on his lips, still perfectly formed with only the slightest hints of any dehydration or the trauma his body was going through showing on his face. A slight tightening around the eyes, his lips a little thinner than usual, a smudge of grey bags but other than that you would never know he wasn't just sleeping. So maybe it wasn't such a daft idea.   
  
“It's not like you'll tell anyone, right?” She whispered, looking at his eyelids for any hint of a reaction. “I mean, I'm not doing this because I fancy you or anything. You're cute, very cute, and yes, so, you are totally my type, but I am not the type of girl who takes advantage of a guy, even a hot one, this is purely... medicinal. Or magical. One of the two.”   
  
Taking a deep breath, she nodded to herself. “It's a tough job but somebody has to try it.” Keeping her eyes open, because, she reasoned, if my eyes are open it's not romantic, it's just business, she leaned over and kissed him, a quick peck to his lips, then pulled back,watching his face and the monitors closely.   
  
Nothing.   
  
“Oh well, was worth a try.”   
  
“I've seen worse ideas.” The voice made her jump, her body sliding back off the couch as, with a squeal, she fell to the floor, her leg unhooking from Sammy's just quick enough to avoid dragging him towards the edge too. Looking up through her dark hair, she forced an embarrassed grin onto her face as she looked up into the face of Doctor Martha Jones.   
  
“Um, Martha, this isn't what it looks like.”   
  
“Pity,” a second voice called from behind Martha, another woman stepping forwards beside her, a similarity in their features that caught her eye. “From what I've heard about this place, a good kiss sounds like it actually might work.”   
  
“Tish, this is Sarah, she's the closest thing I had to an assistant around here and she's very good, and her patient is Noddy. Sarah this is my sister, Tish.” Stepping brusquely past the sprawled technician, Martha Jones quickly cast her eyes over the equipment, checking on Noddy for herself.   
  
“He wants to use his real name now, he's Sammy,” Sarah said quickly as she got back up to her feet, ignoring the developing ache in her hip.   
  
“Hi Sammy,” Martha whispered quietly to the young man, her gaze softening as she looked at him. “Sorry I'm late.” Not looking round, she carried on checking through the readings and notes, catching up on what they knew. “Where's my husband?”   
  
“Husband?”   
  
“Doctor Tom Milligan, he's supposed to be here somewhere, tall, dark, stubble-”   
  
“Oh, him! I didn't realise that was your Tom!” Sarah brushed herself down. “He's on the mission with Johnson, they've gone to kill the creature behind this and find the alien bodies.”   
  
Martha's head snapped round so quickly Sarah was sure she must be at danger of getting whiplash, her eyes wide as she stepped forward, almost backing Sarah into the wall.   
  
“He's  _what?_


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Disobedience, in the eyes of anyone who has read history, is man's original virtue. It is through  
> disobedience that progress has been made, through disobedience and through rebellion.”  
> Oscar Wilde

Lila swore as she fought against the tougher levels of encryption as she pursued her suspicious file, the hacking device assisting her with its speed but still requiring more than just technology to get through; it was more like instinct than logic. “Can't you hurry it up?” John asked, eyeing his watch and a tablet PC showing the feed from her stolen patch into the CCTV system, and looking decidedly uneasy.  
  
“There's something big here that they're hiding, I mean really big, it's so well protected, it must be important.”  
  
“We can come back and get it once we've killed the creature and sorted the rest out, we need to move now.”  
  
“No, we can't come back,” Lila said, glancing at Dave. “There's a kill switch in the system, a trigger, if they think they're being raided they can wipe everything, and I mean everything, if we don't get it now then as soon as they realise we're making our move, they  _will_ destroy it.”  
  
“Have you told the others?”  
  
“Sent it through to Jimmy red flagged, but I'll call him in a sec to confirm.”  
  
“Can you stop it? Remove this trigger?”  
  
“If it was just software, then maybe,” she admitted, trying to focus on her hack and not the constant questions. “But they also have physical things wired up, some sort of EMP generator, and if all that fails...”  
  
“What?” Dave asked, looking worried.  
  
“Good old fashioned explosives. Here and at the warehouses.” Twisting her mouth wryly, Lila shrugged. “Scan the walls of this room and see what I mean.”  
  
“I already did,” John admitted, unconcerned, “I just didn't want to say anything and spook the boy.”  
  
“I am not a boy,” Dave objected, rounding on John, “and I am as much in this as you two, I-”  
  
He was cut off as John swore and looked up at the ceiling, hurriedly shoving the iPad into Dave's hands as he leapt for the panel that led back to the normal server room where they were supposed to be working.   
  
“Yeah, really cyber boy? You wanna play with the grown ups?” He called back over his shoulder as he twisted in the small space. “Then maybe  _you_  can go deal with  _her_ .”   
  
Dave looked at the screen and saw the pretty receptionist heading towards the stairs, a tray with four mugs on it in her hands. Scrambling around the ceiling space, John looked back down at them, worry on his face.   
  
“Work faster, the instant you are done, get back in the centre of the room and fucking stay there until I come for you, even if the alarms trigger, that's a safe zone, a blind spot, they won't be able to see you there. If the shit hits the fan and you're anywhere else...” Shrugging, John flashed them a quick grin before scrambling his way back through the vents as fast as he could.  
  
“If we're anywhere else, what?” Dave asked.  
  
“Let's just say, probably worse than the dynamite,” Lila admitted, focusing on her task and grinning as she finally managed to break through the encryption, what looked like blueprints and schematics flicking over the screen, the construction human but there was something otherworldly about it. As she scrolled through them, a word caught her eye and she sucked in a breath quietly, double checking the link to the office was in sync.  
  
“Base,” she whispered, not quite trusting her voice. “Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”  
  
**************************************** *********  
  
Jimmy Chen looked up as the screen flashed, the transcript of the teams voices turning red for one line, highlighting use of the word base and drawing his attention, even as it filtered the audio to direct Lila's voice through to him. Enlarging her screen, he frowned at the drawings and details, not really understanding it or what she was on about, until he saw it too.  
  
“Oh. Wow. Lila, please tell me they haven't actually managed to build that thing yet?”  
  
 _”According to the files, it's still at the development stages, they don't have enough of the right metal for it, but they've assembled a lot of the pieces. These plans are only the concepts, like a sales brochure, looks like the originals with the actual technical info are kept offline with the machine itself, on site, and there's a reference to a physical vault with a backup copy, but no indication of where that is. You can't build it from this, just prove it is possible. But from these status updates, I'd guess with a bit more time and the right equipment, they could have it working.”_  
  
“We need that,” Jimmy decided, manipulating her feed and concentrating on the files and details coming through, bypassing her stream and looking at the material their own servers was busy archiving, cataloguing and searching. “Give me a location.”  
  
 _”The mission-”_  
  
“Obviously we have a primary objective,” he snapped back, shaking his head, “but this is too big to pass up, there may be a way to get both, if so we have to try.”  
  
 _”Can you check with the boss?”_  
  
“Too late, he's already inside,” James answered, manipulating the feeds and split screens back into formation but smaller, the screen split six ways now with the new data pushed into the bottom corner. He could see the camera feed from Cassie's clothes coming through now they were in, a smiling gentleman gesturing at something. “They're with the target now.”  
  
 _”Damn. Base, I-”_  
  
“Location. Now.”  
  
 _”It's at the warehouse complex, same as the rest, but a different building; it's not as heavily guarded, the pieces are useless without knowing what they are, but it's still locked up pretty tight.”_  
  
“I'll inform the A-team, they can make the call.”  
  
 _”Understood base. We-”_  Jimmy looked up as she swore, the computer taking a few seconds to recognise the oath on the transcript. _”Base, I hit another block, I gotta concentrate. B team out.”_  
  
“Understood. Good luck.” Jimmy watched as their feed went dark, and opened a line to all the other teams. “This is base, team B has identified a serious threat, stand by for possible code red.”  
  
The acknowledgements were short and sharp, from all but Ianto and Cassie, but the camera feed shifted slightly and he saw her cross her legs, her hands wrapping over her knees casually, but for a second, her thumb stood up above her hands, acknowledging the message.  
  
This was about to go crazy. But there was still something else on his mind...  
  
“Team A, we have a new development. Doomsday triggers have been placed at your location, as well as where Teams B and D are. If they think there is a serious threat, the buildings are rigged to explode, be prepared to run like hell.” He hesitated. Maybe Lila was right, the primary mission was all that mattered. Except...   
  
What if they could have the cherry on top too?  
  
“Also be advised, there is a possible secondary target, technology located in the warehouse complex, building 13.” Swallowing hard, he grabbed his bucket, unsure if it was the bug, or the sheer unbelievable luck of it, or the fear that he was about to make a terrible mistake, that was causing his stomach to tense as he filled them in. “You're not gonna believe this, but they have the beginnings of a rift manipulator...”  
  
**************************************** ******  
  
Captain John Hart practically threw himself out of the hole in the ceiling, tumbling to the floor just as the door handle turned, a confused knocking on the door echoing through. “Hello? I'm having trouble with the door, I've got my hands full, can you let me in?” Looking round the place fast, John swore to himself and ran through the room, opening the glass doors protecting the server cables, metal cabinets, anything and everything he could before grabbing a kit bag containing ordinary tools they had used as camouflage for their equipment and left behind. Upending it on the floor, he swore loudly, then called out over his shoulder as he grabbed a length of cable and unplugged it, pulling it with him over to the door  
  
“Just a second!” Grabbing a screwdriver and gripping it with his teeth, he hurried over to the door and removed the blocker he had put on the door, releasing their override on the physical lock, and turned the handle. Opening the door a few inches, he grinned as he stuck his head into the gap. “Hi!” He mumbled around the screwdriver, then grinned and juggled the cable in his arms before pulling the screwdriver free with a smile as he tried to target just the right edge of embarrassment into his voice. “Sorry, I mean, hi.”  
  
“Hi,” she smiled back, a slight flush on her cheeks. “I had trouble with the door, is it sticking?”  
  
“Huh? Oh!” He grinned sheepishly and held up the length of cable. “Sorry, we're running this across the room, didn't want anyone stepping on it or crushing it under the door so I wedged it for a few minutes.” Waving the cable at her he raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn't believe how much this stuff costs.” Looking at the tray in her hands, he grinned more broadly, still fighting hard to bring his body back under control and still his heart, sure she could see his pulse pounding traitorously in his neck and hear his deceit with every breath. “Tea! Oh you're an angel.”  
  
She blushed, an actual flush going over her cheeks and looked away, giving John a second to blow out a blast of suppressed breath before sucking in fresh oxygen gratefully. As soon as she looked up his smile was back though. “I thought you might be getting thirsty.”  
  
“Oh I am always up for a drink,” John murmured softly, reaching out to take two of the mugs off her and placing them inside the door. Looking over his shoulder, he called back into the empty room. “Teas up! Come and get it when you're ready.” Turning back, he shrugged. “They're kindof in the middle of something, but they waved thanks. Not very talkative pair to be honest. Bit dull.”  
  
Giggling, she held out the tray to him again and he took the final mug, his fingers dipping into the small bowl of sugar packets and dropping two down with the other mugs before taking one for himself.   
  
“I was just going to take a tea break myself,” she said shyly, "we have a staff room just along the corridor. I know you're busy, but...”  
  
John froze, smiling broadly but panicking a little. If he didn't go with her, she might get suspicious, might want to come into the empty room and realise what they were up to, but if he did, the others might be stuck in the control room. The systems would only stay offline for so long without him there to keep resetting them. He had to-  
  
The answer, when it came to him, was so simple he almost smacked himself in the face. Smiling genuinely, he nodded. “That would be lovely, just give me two seconds, just need to grab something from my bag...”  
  
**************************************** *  
  
Jack looked up from his position, crouching on the floor of the pitch black warehouse, so reminiscent of their training exercises. The words seemed to be ringing through his ears, bringing back a thousand memories he thought he had locked away.  
  
A rift manipulator. How the hell had they even managed to get their hands on the designs for one, let alone start building it? Their own had been salvaged, bodged, stolen, and invented, with the debris of far too many wrecks and rift flotsam and jetsam. The design had taken decades to create and the plans were presumed lost in the explosion. Nobody else on Earth should have been able to come up with that, no human should even be able to conceive of it yet, let alone start building one-  
  
Or so he had thought. Had they copied the rift manipulator from Torchwood itself?  
  
Or did they know where, and what, the original inspiration had come from...  
  
“Where,” he whispered quietly, opening up his microphone. “Where's building 13?”  
  
“Silence, Captain,” Johnson hissed in his earpiece, her anger evident even in her smooth tones. “We proceed as planned.”  
  
“But this-”  
  
“Changes  _nothing_ . We have a duty to the civilians and to our own people over any technology, do I make myself clear?”  
  
Jack stayed silent, his mind racing. He alone on this planet knew the full potential and danger of a working rift manipulator, the power it could harness and the damage it could do – or prevent. The rift was unstable right now, he had seen the reports on the surge of activity the past year had seen, more weevils, more dangerous artefacts, enough coming through each day to attract hunters like Quinn.   
  
With the rift as it was, Jack knew things could get worse, the rift could fluctuate more than ever. The Gelth had not been the only race to try and exploit the rift; he had helped beat back others, the doorway it represented wide open until they had managed to use the manipulator to at least close it most of the way. Without it in place, every day they ran the risk of another species finding the other side of the rift, one with the power to force it wide open and without anyone on this side to prevent it, to slam them back.   
  
Right now, they were fighting for a couple of dozen lives, but the manipulator could save the entire planet, its technology irreplaceable. It could be protecting the Earth long after everyone here was dead and gone.  
  
Except Jack.  
  
Glancing over his shoulder, he caught the faint LED light marking the door they had broken in through, the rest of the team ahead of him and spreading out through the building. There was no one with him.  
  
No one to stop him.  
  
Opening his mic, he took a deep breath and shook his head. “Base. I'm going for the manipulator.”  
  
“Don't you fucking dare, Captain,” Johnson hissed back, and he could hear a slight scuff somewhere ahead of him, probably her turning back. “You will remain on mission, you will carry out your orders as planned, do you  _understand_ ?”  
  
Hurrying back to the door, Jack closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his decision, the risk he was taking. He was endangering the mission, everyone in the team-  
  
He was endangering Ianto.  
  
Offering up a silent prayer to a deity he had stopped believing in a very long time ago, he put his hand on the door handle and switched on his mic again. “Base. Tell Ianto... I'm sorry.” Turning off his comms, he slipped out of the warehouse and ran.  
  
***********************************  
  
Tim looked up as the soldiers started swearing, Big Ears cursing in a steady stream of ever increasing oaths; the most flattering of which was questioning Jack's parentage, and the least Tim was pretty sure was physically impossible without the aid of reconstructive surgery and would cause some serious psychological damage. The soldiers were pissed off, there was no denying that, their faces dark as they huddled in the shadows.  
  
“Guys,” Tim tried to interrupt, but was drowned out as they pointed out Jack, creeping his way along the edge of the warehouse, and debated whether they could shoot him from this distance without attracting attention. “Guys!” When they carried on, he sighed and lowered the 'skin cancer special', as it had been nicknamed, box to the floor, making sure it was undamaged. With his free hands, he grabbed Big Ears' shoulders and spun him round, forcing the startled soldier to face him. “I'm going with him.”  
  
“What the hell?!” Big Ears spat back, grabbing him back, his grip fierce. “It's bad enough him risking everything on some fools errand-”  
  
“This is important technology, machinery, and I'm the best person to look at it, I've studied it and we may only have this one chance to get it, I can work out how to get it out of there, or, or, or see how it works, you know it, I know it-”  
  
“We need you-”  
  
“The alien cryogenics is simple enough,” Tim said, waving his tattooed hand, “worst case scenario, pull the plug and burn the place; you know as well as I do if this goes to hell we are not taking those creatures out of here anyway, and that just became a lot more likely. But the machine-”  
  
“The creature, for fucks sake Tim, my brother-” Big Ears' voice faded as Tim smiled and let go of Big Ears' shoulders and instead grabbed his face, pulling him close and planting a chaste kiss on his forehead.  
  
“They will kill it, or you will kill it, but Sammy's gonna be okay,  _you_  can all make sure of that. This, this is what I can do.”  
  
“You'll get yourself killed,” Bill snarled, shifting uneasily in the dark recess. “Jack's a loose canon, he won't protect you, he isn't like us, he doesn't think the same way we do, and he doesn't give a damn about his own safety, I can promise you that-”  
  
Tim wasn't listening, all his attention focused on Big Ears, watching the play of thoughts and emotions skating over his face, his torment plain. He had to help his brother, but he felt responsible for the kid in front of him too, he'd promised-  
  
“Fuck it,” Big breathed quietly, letting go of Tim and turning around, pressing his UV light into Ben's hand and shrugging. “Jack won't protect himself, or Tim, but I can.”  
  
“Shit, Big-” Ben whispered back, shaking his head.  
  
“Shoot me or let us go, but make it quick,” Big Ears said quietly, reaching his hand back and feeling Tim's fingers sneak between his, shaky but squeezing firmly. “The kid is going and where he goes, I go.”  
  
“Johnson is gonna rip you apart so bad even Sammy will feel it in his coma,” Bill complained, but his voice wasn't angry, just resigned.  
  
“Yeah, well, if I'm lucky it will get the lazy sod out of bed.”   
  
Ben twisted to look at them both, concern writ large across his features before he nodded, just once. Tim grinned and sprang into life, pointing at the box at his feet. “If you really need me, I mean life or death need me, just yell and we'll be there, I mean it, but you don't need me. Just use the torches to force the creature into the box, force it to, like, manifest its physical shell thing in there, lock it, and press the red button. It's easy, you can handle it, honestly, a monkey could do it.”  
  
“We'll try not to take that as an insult,” Bill muttered, but nodded to Ben as he picked up the box. “Johnson's gonna fucking kill us too,” he added to his partner, seeing a small smile appear on Ben's lips.  
  
“Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the last.”  
  
“That's for sure.” Bill groaned and pressed himself deeper into the recess, letting the young technician press forward with Big Ears and slip out the front. With one last glance, they were off, Big Ears letting go of Tim's hand and arming himself as they ran along the edge of the building, chasing after Jack. Shaking his head, Bill groaned again before keying his microphone. “Base, A Team, be advised Big and Tiny are going after the Captain. They're gonna try and help him get this done fast enough to not get us all killed. We are going to proceed as planned.”  
  
 _”A Team, acknowledged.”_  Johnson's voice was terse, clipped and absolutely filled with cold fury as she came on the line, spitting out the words in a tone that promised them that, whilst she would accept the hand fate was dealing her now, she was going to take her anger out on someone later. Bill just hoped it was Captain Hart and not him.  
  
  
**************************************** ***  
  
Cathy waited patiently as the gorgeous man disappeared again, returning a few seconds later, joining her in the corridor and pulling the door shut behind himself. “I've just realised,” he said with a smile, “I didn't even get your name.”  
  
“Cathy,” she said quickly, almost fumbling the tray at the look he gave her, his lips somehow ever more inviting than they had been a moment ago, more tempting and maybe even a little redder, as though he was anticipating...  
  
“Cathy,” he purred in reply, pausing as she stopped outside the staffroom and leaned against the door, the tea tray still in her hands. Putting his mug back on it, he took the tray off her and followed her in, putting it safely on the side before he turned to face her again. The look on his face made her heart race, but when he crossed the small room in two long strides and grabbed her face, kissing her deeply, she was torn between fighting him off and giving in, wanting to scream but somehow not quite able to-  
  
No that wasn't right. She wasn't quite able to do  _anything_ .  
  
As she went limp, his hands caught her easily, as though he had been expecting this. He gently held her up, breaking off the kiss and looking at her a little sadly. “Sorry, Cathy. If it's any consolation, this is the fast acting one, you'll be fine in about ten, fifteen minutes. Though you won't remember why you're here.” Half carrying, half dragging her over to the small table and chairs, he carefully sat her down and leaned her over the table. Arranging her so her head was resting on her arms, he knelt down beside her and looked into her eyes. “And for the record, I do think you're cute, it wasn't just an act, but some things are just not meant to be sweetheart.”  
  
The last thing she saw was his fingers coming towards her eyes, his touch light on her numb skin as he gently closed her eyelids, then with a swish of hot tea vanishing down the plug hole and a bang of the door closing, he was gone.  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
Tim sighed as he spotted the Captain ahead of them and pointed, unable to say the words as he tried to breathe. Giving up the cigarettes was helping, but damn, he needed to work on his stamina a bit more. He was bendy and fast but he was definitely more a sprinter than a marathon man. Unlike Big who pulled up beside him, his gun held out in front of him with his torch and a exasperated look on his face as he watched the blue coat disappear into a partitioned section of the warehouse, prefabricated office buildings rising high inside the warehouse.  
  
“I'm going to shoot him myself before this is over,” Big muttered, before turning his attention to Tim. “You okay kid?”  
  
Nodding, Tim forced a casual smile on his face and stood up straight, trying to keep his shoulders still and his chest from heaving. “Never better.”  
  
“Liar,” Big grinned, patting him on the back. “I'll take you out training with Noddy sometime when we get back, see if we can't torture some strength into those weedy little lungs of yours.”  
  
“It's a date,” Tim gasped back, giving in and sucking in big lungfuls of air as they stood still for a few seconds longer, waiting as long as they dared. Nodding, he took one last breath and they set off again after the elusive Captain Jack.   
  
Tim could understand Big's frustration, annoyance written all over his face, but he couldn't help being grateful the soldier had agreed to come. He felt a hell of a lot safer in the warehouse with Big by his side, not to mention he had been completely unable to keep up with Captain Jack so far. He was certainly a man on a mission, one Big didn't seem to understand but Tim could. A rift manipulator.  
  
He had read all the material they had on the subject; every single scrap of memory Ianto could dredge up about how the machine looked and what each part was called, how they fit together, all recorded and sketched and diagrammed. But so much of the machine had been hidden it was impossible to get a true picture of it. It was like having just half of a car and trying to build a new one. He had the axle and wheels, he could see what was supposed to make the thing go, could see that another set of wheels would be needed, even have some idea of how the brakes and steering worked, but without any information on the engine needed to make it go. The heart was missing.   
  
It was intriguing, a puzzle he loved to play with, trying to figure out what was missing, what he could use to make it work, how to apply Richard's bizarre equations to an actual mechanical form. He would spend hours poring over the plans and pictures, Ianto's excellent memory helping a lot, but still missing huge chunks of the bigger picture.   
  
They might eventually be able to reconstruct it on their own, or be able to find the original plans lost in the vault system at the Hub, but there was still a lot of work to do. Not to mention, Ianto had made it clear from the start that if they were going to do this, there was no point simply duplicating the 20th century technology and adaptations that had created it in the first place. If they were going to do this, they needed to take advantage of very new advance they could.   
  
Richard was already working on the maths and physics side, studying every new theory and breakthrough he could, and it was Tim's job to work with the technology, seeing every new discovery and discovered piece of alien tech with an eye to using it for their own advantage later. They needed that manipulator if Cardiff was ever going to have any hope of slowing the rush of rift debris that was washing up on the city.  
  
The thought of being able to get his hands on more pieces was incredibly attractive, the intellectual puzzle stimulating and begging to be solved. It was a project Tim knew might not be completed within his lifetime but one he would happily devote that whole life to solving. But right now, it was more than that. It wasn't just the puzzle or abstract concept that it had been a few days ago. Right now, everything felt more real, more desperate; real lives were affected by what they did here, by the rift, by Torchwood, all of it. This wasn't just a game any more.  
  
But if it was, this technology could be the equivalent of a major power up, better than the master cheat code for a game or being in charge of the bank in Monopoly and slipping yourself extra notes. This was major.  
  
As they drew level with the door to the offices, Big motioned to him to wait and then follow him in and Tim nodded, happy he wasn't going first. Of course, in a lot of movies it was the guy at the back who was picked off first...  
  
Shaking off the thought, Tim watched as Big darted through the door, then called back. Time to go. Darting through the door, Tim grinned as he spotted Captain Jack; he had finally stopped moving, which, to Tim's delight, meant no more running. Jack looked torn between being angry or being pleased to see them, his face taking them in as though challenging them to stop him. Tim was about to explain when he felt his jaw dropping, his eyes widening, and he had a feeling he had the most stupid look ever on his face but he just didn't care. His hands dropping to his sides, Tim stumbled forwards, a slow and delighted grin forming on his face as he moved and took in what he was seeing.  
  
It was tall, a long column suspended in the centre of the building and hanging down between three floors. The main section wasn't that big, just maybe half as big as he was, but the rest seemed to be just simple metal, reminding him of a bubble caught in a straw.   
  
His mind was instantly transported back to the images of the original manipulator, nestled at the base of the water tower and using the metal as a giant antenna to boost its signal and power. This was what took up all the room, the antenna, not the rift manipulator itself. That was on the second floor, built into the array.  
  
In his mind Tim was instantly in the engine room of the Enterprise, looking up at the warp core, and he had to shake the thought off quickly. That was fantasy, science fiction, a dream. This was real, really here; there was no denying the solidity of the circular consoles around the central core of the building or the spiderweb of cables hooked up to the machine. There were clunky messes of cables, unplugged leads and junk everywhere and even the silver flash of duct tape in places.  
  
“Mother  _fucker..._ ” he whispered.   
  
He was vaguely aware of Jack laughing as he tripped his way over to the huge circular console surrounding the work area and shook his head slowly at what he was seeing. “It's... It's...”  
  
“Tim, may I introduce you to a pretty damn close to being finished Rift Manipulator.”  
  
“It's... Beautiful.”  
  
“Question is,” Big interrupted. His gun was still drawn and pointing at the door they had come through, covering their backs and taking care of his charge even if he did seem determined to put himself into danger. “Can you get it out of here in ten minutes flat, because that's about how long we've got before all hell breaks loose?”  
  
Jack raised his eyebrows, looking at Tim challengingly. Sliding his backpack off, Tim rooted through his bag for his notepad and Netbook, a long string of many cables tied together following it as he took in the console, looking for the right port to hook himself up. Grinning, he shrugged and looked between the two men.  
  
“Let's find out.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I trembled, and my heart failed within me; when, on looking up, I saw, by the light of the moon, the daemon at the casement.”  
> Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Johnson could hear her breath, loud in her ears, as she stalked her way through the pitch black space. The warehouse had obviously been given over to being a space where the creature could roam free, unhindered by light, as there was absolutely nothing on show, not even an LED flickering in the dark. Flicking her night vision goggles over her face, the world became shades of green, shaped starting to loom at her out of the darkness.   
  
One end of the warehouse had what appeared to be a loading dock, a fork lift truck parked up waiting for its next task and palettes stacked in one corner. Racking, large shelves of strange objects and boxes, probably related to the firm's cover story of being a trader judging by their open display, filled most of the space in the warehouse but they weren't any concern of hers.   
  
She was after the offices. A prefabricated cube of walls stood in the centre of the warehouse, surrounded by the labyrinth of racking and only visible as glimpses through the shelves or when she passed by an aisle leading directly to it. There was a faint hum in the air, a sound of suppressed power, and it drew her ever closer to her target. She could just about make out a web of large power cables snaking their way across the far off roof of the warehouse, leeching energy from everywhere around them and feeding it into the building within a building.   
  
“Team A, any contact?”   
  
_“Negative, feel fine.”_  She listened as her team checked in, no trace of the creature yet. It must be sleeping, the bright sunlight outside trapping it in the building, exhausted by its attacks the evening before, still sated after having gorged itself on Noddy's brain, delving into his mind-   
  
She pushed the thoughts aside, concentrating on her path through the shelves, careful to zig zag through and keeping a close eye out for any further traps. Captain Jack had at least managed to do his job of disarming them properly before he ran off. So far anyway.    
  
As she came to the final stretch of open ground before the offices, she caught sight of Barney and Cuthbert edging their way out of the racks and into position, ready to make their run. Lining herself up with the doorway, she took a deep breath and ran, her feet barely making a sound as they converged on the building. She trusted that Dibble and Grub were doing the same on the opposite side and hoped that Andy Pandy wasn't too mad at missing this; he had broken his wrist the week before in a fight with a weevil so had been rerouted to the hospital team to help out there.   
  
Reaching the door first, she didn't even look up as Barnet and Cuthbert closed on her position, flanking her as she set to work on the lock. There were no obvious alarms, just a security keypad and swipe card system, and she hastily pulled a device from the bag on her back and slid a plain white card into the lock, a long cable leading from it back to the machine. A soft beep, a green glow of a rare LED filling her gaze, and the door clicked open. Slipping the machine back into her bag, she nodded to the other two and slipped inside.   
  
“Team A, into second layer now. Secondary team, bring in Doc.”   
  
Without waiting for an acknowledgement, trusting her men to already be on their way, she pushed through into the office spaces.   
  
**************************************   
  
_“...Bring in Doc.”_   
  
Tom was surprised he didn't feel nervous when the order came to move. Truth be told, he didn't feel much of anything, no fear, no nervousness, not even any anger any more, his emotions deadened by betrayal and pain. He was not even sure why he was here; yes they needed someone to deal with the bodies, if they found them, but even then, it wasn't essential for it to be him. He could have stayed at the office and Sarah could have handled this. She wasn't a proper medic but she was capable of this task and knew the cryogenics systems better than he did. He didn't have to be here.   
  
It scared him a little that he actually wanted to be here. This was dangerous; he could be injured or killed if things went wrong, Johnson had made absolutely certain he was aware of that before agreeing to take him with them. He knew the risks, but he was a doctor not a soldier, he shouldn't want to be here.   
  
So why was it he could feel something after all, just so unexpected he hadn't even recognised it at first; he was excited. He had never been in combat before, never held a gun, but as he jogged along between Hugh and Pugh, the two men flanking and guarding him, he felt like he had been there his whole life, running and fighting with them.    
  
He had spent his life training to help sick children and he loved his job, he really did, but it was also the most painful thing in the world, it was full of shades of grey as he was forced to watch the kids endure so much and not understand why he was making them hurt, not old enough to know it was for their own good.    
  
Tom was a firm believer that he could cope with things going wrong in one part of his life as long as another was going okay, but lately his job was starting to bring him down, the fallout from the 456 affecting children in ways no one had really suspected. They didn't trust anyone in authority, and neither did their parents, and it made his job so very, very much harder. He could have handled that, brushed it off and coped, as long as he had someone to talk to about it, someone who understood. Once upon a time that had been Martha.   
  
Now he had nothing, nowhere to turn, and it was killing him in shades of grey and layers of bureaucracy, one day at a time, one child's scream at a time, one parent's look of suspicion at a time. So maybe that was why, as they entered the pitch black warehouse and pulled on their goggles, Hugh helping make sure his were on securely, he felt a grin on his face that he hadn't felt in a long time. There was no ambiguity here, no what ifs and should I do it, it was simply bad guys and good guys, and he really needed to feel like a good guy for a change.   
  
He could still hear a little voice in the back of his mind though, whispering to him that that wasn't it really, that actually he was trying to get himself killed, that maybe if he died here, doing Martha's job for her, that it would teach her a lesson.   
  
He hoped that wasn't true, it didn't  _feel_  true, but that was the problem with being a doctor; you considered all the possible diagnoses before deciding on the one most likely to be right. He couldn't ignore that his heart raced a little at the thought of Martha, griefstricken and lost, crying over him. But as they drew close to the door into the offices, another image flashed across his mind; Martha, smiling as she drew him into her arms, her joy and love telegraphed in every kiss and word and look.    
  
The feeling passed, the hatred fading, and he took a deep breath as Pugh nodded to him, he and Hugh taking up positions ahead of Tom and Bill and Ben moving in behind him. Tom wasn't doing this out of spite or hatred or to get back at Martha, he knew it, he could feel it in his heart. But he wasn't doing it  _for_  Martha either, a revelation that surprised him a little. He was doing it for him, and no one else.   
  
Which, whilst perhaps not as heroic as he liked to think of himself as being, was something he really needed right now.   
  
At their signal, he moved and followed them inside.   
  
****************************   
  
Tom was tucked in between the group of men, their bulk surrounding him and protecting him even though there was no obvious threat yet, their gazes alert as they scanned their surrounding and navigated their way through the maze of shelving.    
  
He could feel his heart pounding and found himself cataloguing the physiological signs of stress and excitement in his head, trying to use them to focus, but all he could think of was something an old teacher of his had told him at A-level. Most people described it as a fight or flight reflex, the body reacting to danger and readying itself to provide energy to either fight an attacker or flee from it. But there was another part to it too, one his teacher had politely referred to as “frolic” to keep the alliteration going.   
  
They had, of course, mentally switched it to fuck.   
  
Fight, flight or fuck. He could hear the words repeating in his head, like a mantra, his body asking him to pick between them. Right now, flight was the closest, the team setting up a good pace through the dark space, and he could feel the burn of the activity in his body, surging through him.   
  
“There.” He wasn't sure who whispered it, but sure enough, he could see a glimpse of the office block through the gaps in the shelves a hint of it's shape being picked out by the torches. “Okay, we-”   
  
They stopped, dropping low as suddenly the lights came on, powerful overhead strip lights clicking on in sequence and spreading through the warehouse. Tom found himself being pushed forcefully back, getting almost tackled to the ground, and then being forced underneath the lowest shelf of one of the shelving racks. Getting the hint, he pulled off his pack and dropped as low as he could and shuffled under the simple wooden shelf, the space barely big enough. Hugh crawled in beside him, his slight frame the only other one that could make it, the others darting off to find better cover.   
  
Twisting his head as much as he could to see Hugh, Tom could see the soldier breathing steadily, his gun held out in front of him, ready to defend them. Tom didn't dare speak, but Hugh caught him looking and shook his head slightly. He didn't know what was going on either. Focusing on bringing his breathing under control, Tom tried to ignore the levels of dust stirring up in front of his face, drifting in small puffs with every breath, tickling his throat. He wondered how far through the other team were, if they had noticed the lights come on, if they had perhaps caused it-   
  
No, he could hear it now, a door banging and footsteps, unhurried, casual, more than one pair stomping carelessly through the warehouse. The footsteps sounded confident, no hesitating or working out which way to go, just the steady beat of feet on a well known path and a soft babble of conversation. An occasional sentence could be made out, snatches of chat about someone dating someone else, perfectly normal gossip.   
  
Workers.    
  
Tom cold hear the faintest crackle of Hugh's earpiece and looked round, spotting the other man reach back to tap his microphone twice. Something had been decided, but what-   
  
A trio of soft thuds, reminiscent of blow darts in old movies, was all he heard then brief cries that were almost instantly muffled. Three louder thuds marked what he assumed was people hitting the floor and he twisted his head, looking along the empty spaces under the shelves until he spotted a prone body, black boots and gloved hands either side of it, lifting it.   
  
“Okay, let's go,” Hugh whispered, and Tom obeyed, wriggling as best he could to drag his body out from the small space again, dusting himself off and finally coughing, trying to shift some of the filth from his lungs. As he got his bearings, he could see Bill and Ben lifting up the bodies, Pugh using a stepladder to reach up to the higher shelves, way above eyeline. Once higher, the others passed him up the unconscious or dead employees, scientists judging by the clothing, white labs coats now significantly browner. Rolling them onto the shelves, Pugh made sure they were all secure, then scrambled back down, moving the ladder well out the way.   
  
“That was the fifteen minute version,” he said quickly, activating what Tom presumed was a counter on his watch. “We need to be back in ten to either redose them or be on our way out the door..”   
  
“Acknowledged,” Bill said, looking round. “Let's leave the lights, if anyone else thinks their friends are in here, they may be less suspicious, and it'll give us a safe space against that beast.” Double checking his weapon, he looked at Tom. “You okay still, Doc?” Tom nodded, falling into position between them again and steeling himself for the next step. “Right, better get on with it then ladies. Let's go.”   
  
**************************************** **********   
  
Ben froze as he stepped into the office area, his mind prepared for the standard layout of warehouses and offices he was used to, but not this. Actually very little in his experience prepared him for this.   
  
The space was a giant cube, prefab walls rising up maybe another five metres above their heads, the ceiling almost invisible unless they shone their torches directly at it. It was a huge space, considering how it looked from the outside, but he figured it to be about four storeys high and the same size on each side. If it had floors and sections like a normal office it wouldn't be so bad, but there was nothing, just blank walls stretching up, and cables and-   
  
No, he realised he was wrong about that when he spotted Johnson and the others. They were further in and their torch lights were flashing over a black wall within the darkness, a smaller box of a room. It was like a portacabin or trailer, a simple shape but with no windows, just a single door.   
  
“Reckon that's where they keep the boogeyman?” Bill asked, his gruff voice strong as always, possibly only Ben noticing the slight nervousness in it. “Its little kennel, sweet.”   
  
“Yeah, if a giant box in a box in a warehouse is sweet.” Ben squinted at the room around them, shaking his head. “It's pitch black in here, even with all the lights on outside.”   
  
“So if the little nipper decides to come out for a bite to eat-”   
  
“It's torches only, unless you can find a light switch.”   
  
“Yeah, when've we ever been that lucky.”   
  
Shrugging, Ben listened to Johnson's cue in his earpiece and moved, following the wall of the outer shell and looking for anything useful. There was equipment wired into the building that he almost couldn't see until he was on top of it, all the usual ever present LED's and colours covered and muted or just plain blocked out so they weren't visible unless you were directly in front of it. Flicking his light over the panels he nodded to himself.    
  
“Looks like this is where they've been controlling that gas they used on us,” he said softly, checking out the panels and trying to figure out how to use it. “Yeah, there's pressure readings and some kind of schematic of the house, that's where the pipes were isn't it?” he asked, his gloved fingertip pointing to a series of red lines on the screen.   
  
“Yeah, that's them. Definitely in the right place then.”   
  
“That's something.” Reporting his find, he moved on, his torch flashing over the walls and floor in a steady sweep. There was nothing for a while, not along that wall, but as they reached the corner and turned, the concentration of cables started to increase. They were thick, heavy duty, and his torch caught the flash of a familiar yellow and black lightning symbol. “They said these cryo units use a lot of juice, right?”   
  
“Yep.”   
  
“I think we're on the right pa-” He stopped as his torch caught a wisp of something, just a little corner of black fabric, and he stopped, Bill drawing up beside him and their torches moving together. They found the corner again and traced it up, the fragile outline of a black drop cloth covering a large shape, just standing a metre from the wall, thick cables blocking their path around the warehouse exterior. Beyond it, they could see a similar shape, then another, then another...   
  
“Boss, we found 'em,” Bill reported into his microphone, flicking a switch on his torch to turn it into a green light and he began waving it back and forth to draw the others over. “Mind your step, cables,” he added quickly as a torch fumbled in the dark, the shape of Hugh coming into view behind it as he drew closer.   
  
“Thanks for the warning,” Hugh said as he moved closer.   
  
Ben barely noticed, his attention all on the shrouded shapes before him. He suddenly wondered if this was how the Egyptian archaeologists had felt, entering a tomb and unsure what they were going to find, if they would find glory – or death at the hands of a mysterious curse. Grabbing hold of one corner of the cloth he gave it an experimental tug, watching it billow loosely. They weren't secured, just covering, and a soft blue glow seeped out from beneath its edge like a ghostly mist.   
  
“Shall we?” He whispered to Bill, catching his partner's eyes. Nodding, Bill flicked his torch back to its normal white beam, and shone it onto the shroud.   
  
“Go for it.”   
  
Ben whipped the cloth back, tossing it clear of them and was focused on flicking it away, but the muffled yell from Bill made him drop it fast, reaching for his gun on instinct-   
  
Bill was staring at the revealed unit, the blue glow washing over his masked face, but he wasn't hidden enough that Ben couldn't make out the shock and horror on it. Moving to stand alongside his partner, he looked down into the box-   
  
“Oh, God...”   
  
“God had nothing to do with this,” Bill replied sternly, shaking his head as they looked down.   
  
The woman, or what had once been at least partly a woman anyway, had been partially dissected, her arms missing, and the bullet holes through her torso clearly visible through the glass. The Y incision of an autopsy scar was etched into her body with precision, if not care. Her hair was gone and a similar scar ran around her skull. But for all the horror of her body, she looked serene and peaceful, her eyes closed, and Ben ran his gloved hand over the top of her chamber slowly.   
  
“Rest in peace,” he whispered quietly, offering up a silent prayer as he discreetly crossed himself.    
  
“Looks like they already pillaged the bodies for whatever they could make use of,” Johnson's voice echoed in their ears, her tone weary. “We've got pieces mostly. Search quickly, see if there are any intact bodies still.”   
  
Obeying the order, they set to work uncovering the remaining units, trying not to look more than they had to to see if there was anything worth salvaging. One after another, the fragments, blood, plasma or whatever passed for bodily fluids for that species filled units were revealed until they were done, the eerie blue light rising over the whole scene like something out of a horror movie.   
  
Nothing.   
  
Shaking her head, Johnson came into the view of Ben's torch, her hand rising to her microphone to signal back to base.   
  
“A team to base, we found the packages, all were damaged in the post. If we want any compensation, suggest we sue Royal Mail. We are ready to take care of the guard dog, as soon as the vets give us the all clear.”   
  
_”Acknowledged.”_   
  
Turning her attention back to her team, Johnson shone her torch back to the centre of the space and the box within it.   
  
“Alright boys, take positions and stay alert. First sign of trouble we go in, but let's see if the good doctor can do her work first.”   
  
**************************************** **************   
  
“Base to Team C, ladies, the bus will be leaving shortly, last call for any stragglers!”   
  
Jimmy waited as he watched Lois' name flash up on the screen and her single word acknowledgement in his ears before switching to his final pawn, moving him into position now.    
  
“Base to Sparkles, you are good to go. Happy hunting.”   
  
_“I hate you, walrus.”_   
  
“Like I care. Have fun, vamp boy, enjoy it! Now get to work.”   
  
_“Acknowledged.”_   
  
Watching the screen closely, Jimmy Chen sat down again, letting himself breathe for a moment. This was the calm before the storm and all hell was going to break loose soon.   
  
Time for another bucket break...   
  
**************************************** **************   
  
Richard looked up from the back seat of the car and caught the eye of Andy Pandy in the rear view mirror. “They're ready for us.”   
  
“You okay kid?”   
  
Swallowing hard, Richard leaned forward in the seat and checked his hair in the mirror, contenting himself that it was as close as it was going to get. A little discreet styling, an outfit matched as closely as possible to the real thing, and he had to admit, it wasn't a bad resemblance.   
  
He already knew he looked enough like Robert Pattinson to convince drunk freshers. The question was, would it work on a sober security guard?   
  
There was only one way to find out.   
  
Nodding once more, he settled back in the seat and glanced at the boxy shape of the hospital on the horizon. It was time to do the best impersonation of his life.   
  
**************************************** **************   
  
Lois looked up from watching Dr Stephen taking the patients off of their sedatives, a noise attracting her attention and she hastily glanced back at the nurse they had dragged in after them into the ward. Lois had hated having to stun her, but it had been obvious she wasn't buying Grace's story, and they had come too far to stop. The nurse was still out cold, silent and safely laid out on a spare bed. So what was it she could hear?   
  
“There,” Lois said as it came again, a high pitched sound, faint but there. “Do you hear that?”   
  
Grace looked up, frowning as she concentrated. “That's screaming.”   
  
“You sure?”   
  
“You work in a hospital long enough, you learn that sound all too well,” she muttered darkly.   
  
“Lois to entry teams, any disturbance?” A single loud beep signalled no, and she shook her head. “What the hell is going on here?” Hurrying across the room, she hesitated every few paces, following the sound back to its source at the far wall. Pressing her ear against it, she listened, her blood running cold at the sound and the sheer terror in it. “It sounds close, can you remember what's behind this wall?”   
  
“Private rooms, sterile zones, nothing that unusual. Check the computer at the desk, see if there are any more patients listed for this department.”   
  
Lois nodded, and hurried over to the computer, using the receptionist's login to get into the system again. Sifting through the records, she found one name listed apart from the others and frowned. “Taylor, M. Why do I... Oh, God! It's Michael!”   
  
“Who's Michael?”   
  
“He's another one who was attacked but he isn't in a coma, he's conscious, just terrified of the dark. He went missing from the hospital after we interviewed him, and they've got him! Oh, oh no.” Lois paled, horrified as she looked up. “They've got him in the dark.”   
  
“That would explain the screaming,” Grace said quietly, glancing at the wall. “But other than that, he is okay?”   
  
“Yes, but it's our fault they found him, they would never have realised he was connected to all this if it wasn't for us.”   
  
”Lois,” Grace sighed, “look, if you want to go find him, go, I'll send someone to find you as soon as I can or you can bring him here if he can move, but I've  _got_  to stay here now. I've already started reducing the sedation, I have to stay here.”   
  
“I...”   
  
“It's up to you, either you go alone now, or you wait until we've secured everyone here and we can both go look for him. It's your call.”   
  
Lois hesitated, looking round the rows of people she had never met, but whose details she had gone over a dozen times. Evan Jones, a fireman, Abigail Matthews, a single mum with two small children, Chris Cook, a student... She knew them all, did she really want to risk not being here with them because of one other person, just because she had actually spoken to him? Wasn't she responsible for all of them?   
  
“I'm going,” she said suddenly, moving round the desk. “Doesn't matter who's in there, he could be any of them,” she indicated the sleeping patients, “but he's awake and in trouble and he needs help too so I'm going to try. Besides,” she added with a small smile, “it's not like I'm actually helping much here.”   
  
Nodding, Grace returned her attention to her charges. “Go, but hurry, we don't have much time.”   
  
“Do you want me to leave the stun gun?”   
  
“No I most certainly do not,” Grace snapped back and Lois nodded, double checking the gun in her pocket.   
  
“Right, well, see you on the other side!” Turning on her heel, Lois ran for the door and hoped she would be in time.   
  
*************************************   
  
Richard stayed half hidden in the back of the car, watching as his new chauffeur/bodyguard argued with the security guard about pseudonyms and confidentiality, and waited for his cue. As the clichéd phrase “don't you know who he is?” rang through the air, he leaned forward and wound down the window, leaning out to catch the guard's attention.   
  
“Is there a problem?”   
  
He could see the guard's eyes widen a little, the look suggesting that the recognition was vague but there.   
  
“Mr Pattinson has an appointment,” his 'bodyguard' said, Andy deliberately roughing his accent to sound tougher. “I don't want 'im to be late.”   
  
“Mr... Course, course,” the guard said quickly, finally making the connection. “In you go!” Standing back, he waved them through into the covered staff car park and Richard let out a sigh of relief.   
  
“So far, so good,” he muttered.   
  
“Yeah, just keep quiet and let me do the talking as much as possible, you're far more convincing in looks than voice.”   
  
“Everyone's a critic.” Richard checked his hair again and blew out a shaky breath. “Wait a minute, how are  _you_  such an expert on Pattinson's voice?”   
  
Coughing, Andy grinned and looked at him in the rear view mirror. “You know the projectionist at the local cinema?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Well I do.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
“I can quote entire scenes from that bloody film by now. You wanna hear some?”   
  
“Dear God no...”   
  
“I'll be Bella, you be Vamp boy, it'll be fun!” Closing his eyes, Richard shook his head and brought his microphone up to his mouth.   
  
“Sparkles to Walrus, past the gatekeeper. Back will be covered.”   
  
_“Acknowledged.”_   
  
*************************************   
  
The room was pitch black, darker than anywhere civilised ought to be, and Johnson could feel her pulse racing as she pushed through the small door and entered the space. The lack of light struck her first, but it was more than that, there was a smell too. It was subtle, nothing like the stench of carnivores like Weevils, or the garbage smell of a Hoix, it was only a hint of a scent but she could almost feel decay and death in it. It was like woodsmoke, trapped in her hair long after the fire was gone, a sudden waft of it being caught when she moved her head.   
  
Her night vision goggles firmly in place, she could see a low counter along one side of the room, a small cage dominating the space, wires and leads clipped to it in every place they could. And, inside the cage, she could see it at last.   
  
It was small, about the size of a domestic cat, but spiked like a hedgehog, quills rising and falling in a steady rhythm. But overlaid with this, there was a sense of something else, a cloud of something swirling over it. It didn't seem to be aware of her presence, as though it was sleeping, and she couldn't help hoping that would last.   
  
“Box,” she whispered, and she heard the faint click of metal and knew without looking that it was being held open and ready behind her.    
  
Edging closer, she carefully unclipped the door of the cage, her gloved hand sliding cautiously into the void inside. She had no idea how to handle this thing, if it would be floppy or solid, if she would have a few seconds whilst it awoke, or if the slightest touch would set it off. She had no way of knowing.   
  
She also had no choice.   
  
Hovering her fingers over its body, she took a deep breath, and grabbed it. It was soft, pliant, but cold, like no animal she had ever touched-   
  
And, as she pulled her hand back through the door, trying to drop it into the box, she felt it stir under her fingers until a pair of eyes found hers, bright as stars through the night vision goggles.   
  
It was awake.   
  
And it was hungry.    
  
As it bit into her mind, she screamed with rage as she felt her fingers reflexively let go, the shape almost melting away between her fingertips as she fell back out through the doorway. She'd lost it, it was loose in the room.   
  
With her team as sitting ducks.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A sensible man will remember that the eyes may be confused in two ways - by a change from light to darkness or from darkness to light; and he will recognize that the same thing happens to the soul.”  
> Plato

No sooner had Johnson yelled than it was there. 

  
Tom flicked his torch on, the light far too bright in his eyes, and he felt as though his head was going to burst his heart was beating so fast. It was terror, sheer, unadulterated terror, complete and total and it was inside him, in his mind, in his body, picking over his memories and trying to find the ones most guaranteed to tear him apart-  
  
-Martha, her back against the wall, her eyes pleading with him as he slammed her back against it, her voice begging him to believe her-  
  
-The sight of Jack in their home, believing for a moment that he was the one, that he was stealing Martha away, picturing them together, his rage overwhelming him-  
  
-Martha, all in black, her back to him, her body tense as a man aimed something at her, something Tom knew was a weapon, the man a threat, hatred so pure and intense blasting through him as he ran, even knowing it would be the last thing he did-  
  
That wasn't  _his_  memory.   
  
The nightmare was one he hadn't had for years, not since he and Martha got engaged, the dream one he attributed to a fear of losing her, a fear of how strongly he felt for her, even though he wasn't quite sure why. It was just a dream.  
  
But as the creature found it, found the fear and terror and used it, he could see it in details he had never remembered from the dream. He could see the bag Martha had tossed to the floor, could picture coloured vials inside, even though he had no way of knowing what was in it. He could feel the fear of the people crammed into the tiny houses lining the street, scared and desperate, and he had tried so hard to help them all this long year.   
  
He could see the face of the man who was going to kill her and for the first time he recognised him; Saxon.  
  
 _The Master._  
  
It hit Tom like a punch to his chest, the sudden realisation that it was not a dream, had never been a dream at all. It was a memory. It was Tom's, but it didn't belong to him at all. It was  _his_ , the other Tom, the one Martha had fallen for, the one she really loved.  
  
She didn't love him at all. She never had.  
  
The fear and pain was overwhelming and he dropped to his knees, vaguely aware of screaming, thinking it was just the man in the memory but then he realised it was him. The pain was too great, but he knew then what his greatest fear was; losing Martha.  
  
“I swear by Apollo the healer...” Curling up, he began to recite the Hippocratic oath, desperately repeating the words like a rosary, using them to anchor himself and try and push the memory away. If he could just get through this, just one more breath, one more repetition at a time, he would be okay, he just had to keep going-  
  
And maybe then, if he could get through this, he could persuade Martha to try and love him, the real him, after all.  
  
*****************************  
  
Martha ran to join Chen, watching the feeds with terror on her face, her eyes scanning over the transcripts, watching as the computer tried to make sense of the cries even as Jimmy muted the sound. “Ohgod, what's happening to them?”  
  
“The creature, it's there with them, if they can't bring it under control then...”  
  
She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking over the screens and widening when she found the words hidden amongst the feed and found herself whispering along. “In every house where I come, I will enter only for the good of my patients... Oh, Tom, hang on...”  
  
*******************************  
  
Bill could barely stand, his hands clenched into tight fists around his gun, but he forced himself to let go, to grab the torches instead and start blindly shining the lights into the pitch black room, wielding them like weapons against the dark. Beside him, he heard a thud and a familiar cry and looked down-  
  
“Ben!” Dropping to his knees beside his partner, he fumbled for Ben's torch too, turning it on and twisting it to point at Ben's face before taking his UV one and adding it to his own, waving them erratically around as though trying to fight off mosquitoes. “Come on, you bastard, show yourself!”   
  
He was vaguely aware of a strangled cry behind him and Hugh shouting too, and he risked a glance back to see Pugh on the floor, shaking in the stuttering torchlight. The doctor, Tom, was pale, but conscious, muttering to himself as he tried to crawl closer, trying to help the unconscious men, and Bill suddenly felt a wave of gratitude and respect for the man.  
  
But then he felt it again, the creature renewing his attack, and all thoughts were lost except for the fear.  
  
**************************************** ***  
  
Big Ears paled at the sounds in his earpiece, glancing behind him as the Captain and Tim worked as fast as they could, torn between his need to protect them and his need to help his friends. He could hear every update in his ear, Chen's voice calmly relaying every disaster as the mission went straight to hell. He could hear the panic in Johnson's voice as she tried to organise her team, the whole thing going wrong-  
  
They had to move.  
  
“We're out of time, we have to go  _now_ !”  
  
“We can't!” Tim yelled, his fingers disappearing into his black fringe and flicking it back up off his face. “I've removed all the physical connections I can, but there's a metric fuckton of power going through that thing, we have to shut off the supply.”  
  
“So pull the damn plug!”  
  
“Without stopping it first? It'd be like sticking your hand into lightning, no man could-”  
  
“This line here?” Captain Jack asked suddenly, taking off his coat before running around the machine and pointing at the main cable, a strange look on his face. Catching his eye, Big Ears suddenly knew what he had planned and glanced at Tim.  
  
The kid didn't  _know_ .  
  
“Yeah, that's the one,” Tim nodded, “to shut it down I need to- NO!”   
  
Big Ears lunged forwards and grabbed the younger man, dragging him back, as Jack grabbed the cables and yanked, hard, the power that had been going into the machine suddenly going through his body instead. The scream was horrific, but not as bad as the smell; they could literally smell him burning, the hairs frying on his skin and his face-  
  
There was a deep thudding sound, some sort of circuit breaker kicking in perhaps, and the power stopped, releasing the Captain from its hold. But instead of quieting down, an alarm began wailing, insistent and annoying. As soon as Jack dropped to the floor, Big Ears was moving, grabbing the coat and using it to flick the cable away from them before draping it over the now dead Captain.  
  
“Can you shut off that alarm?” Big shouted. “Is that the doomsday switch thing?”  
  
Tim shook his head, terrified as he looked at the screens before him. “It's just a preliminary alarm, there's safeguards, the explosives won't go off if we- Oh.”  
  
“I really don't like the sound of that oh.”  
  
“Well, good news is we have fifteen minutes to live.”  
  
“That's the good news? What's the bad?”  
  
“We're locked in, and unless we can type in the shutdown code within five minutes, the alarm will escalate and it will be impossible to stop the blast.”  
  
“That's very bad.”  
  
“Uh huh.”  
  
“What if we force the doors and just run for it?”  
  
“No, all the doors are locked, by the time we force the doors out of these offices, the blast would bring the whole place down around us before we took two steps outside.”  
  
“So what you're saying is, we can't get out, we don't know the code to disarm this thing in the next five minutes-”  
  
“Four minutes ten seconds.”  
  
“And in fourteen minutes we're going to look worse than Freddie Kruger.”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
Shaking his head quickly, Big Ears began to pace, his hand tight to his earpiece. “Base, this is Big Ears, we have a very serious problem here...”  
  
**********************************  
  
Jimmy could feel the pressure of Martha beside him, watching every move, of Big Ears on the line, needing a way out, of the ominous silence from Lila and her team. He was all too aware that there was no one else to ask, that if he didn't come up with a way to solve this problem that people, people he knew, were going to die.  
  
No pressure then.  
  
Grabbing his bucket, he threw up again, watching the plastic contain it all, the splashes up the side pretty much matching how he imagined the debris would look, body parts and metal showering over them all, rising up into the air-  
  
There was something he'd missed. He could feel it at the back of his mind, a little niggle of something he'd seen, something in his memory...  
  
“What about the code,” Martha asked, still frantically trying to find a way to resolve this beside him. “Can you guess it, disarm it?”  
  
 _”It needs a staff ID,”_  Big Ears said quickly, dismissing the idea,  _”We didn't exactly grab one on the way in.”_  
  
“What about Lila, can she hack in and override it?”  
  
“I already tried her, she just says it's a stand alone system, she can't get into them,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “There's something I can't quite put my finger on-”  
  
“Okay, what about breaking down the doors, force your way out?”  
  
 _”That will set off the blast, Lila said the explosives are all in the outer walls,”_  a young voice, Tim's, said over the line. He didn't sound afraid, if anything he almost sounded like he was enjoying himself, but Jimmy chalked that down to adrenaline and that general feeling of unreality the whole situation had. Things like this didn't really happen, not to them, they were just lab rats, they weren't going to get blown up.  _”Besides, we're locked in the main lab block, we'd have to break through the office doors before we could even get to the outer ones. The charges would blow before we could get across the warehouse.”_  
  
Up. Something about up...  
  
“Okay, so, if you stay there, in that room, would you survive?”  
  
 _“Unlikely,”_  Big Ears said,  _“from what I can see of the warnings, the explosion is designed to collapse the warehouse around us. We might live through it, but the heat means we'd probably be oven fresh before you could dig us out again.”_  
  
The walls. It was in the walls...  
  
“Up!” Jimmy shouted, jumping to use the touchscreen to go into the plans of the warehouses that Lila had managed to get off the feed and the images he had taken from Big Ears' camera on the way in. He scanned through them, looking for it-  
  
“Go up! The roof of the office block, there's a bundle of power cables, they lead up into the roof itself. They use solar panels to boost the power, you can use that access to climb out of the warehouse!”  
  
 _“And onto the roof?”_  Big asked.  _”What good will that do us?”_  
  
“By the time you get up there I'll think of something,” Jimmy snapped, moving around the plans and details as fast as he could, weighing up the possibilities. “Look, one thing at a time, get up there and then we'll worry about how to get you down again.”  
  
 _“What about the rift manipulator?”_  Tim asked quietly and Big Ears hesitated.  
  
 _“We can use the cables, tie it to me, I'll carry it up.”_  
  
 _“But if it's too heavy-”_  
  
 _“If it's me or the bloody machine I'll cut it loose, okay? Right now, let's focus on getting out of here. Jimmy, we're on the move, if Jack comes back on comms tell him where we are.”_  
  
“Jack? You said he was electrocuted-”  
  
 _“Just. Do it. Okay? Big Ears out.”_  
  
Jimmy looked at Martha questioningly and she shrugged. “It's a long story, just do as he says.”  
  
“Yes ma'am.” Ignoring her, Jimmy focused on the plans again, trying to figure out a way to make two men and a heavy piece of equipment fly.  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Michael was still screaming, the darkness complete around him and his wrists sore from pulling at the restraints, when something changed, he could feel it. The creature was upset, drawing back, but at the same time he could feel it stronger in his head. It was like a cat digging in its claws as you try to lift it up, scratches cutting through his mind.  
  
Gasping with the pain, he stopped screaming, grabbing tight to the edge of the bed, the frame cold against his fingers. He didn't even notice his fingers starting to cramp from the pressure. His mind felt stretched, his chewing gum brain dragging across Wales and ready to be ripped in two. The creature was screaming in his mind, sharp and tearing, and he suddenly knew that he was dying, that if it didn't let go it would take him into oblivion with it.  
  
But he couldn't get away.   
  
Michael pulled, harder and harder, frantically trying to get away, then with a sensation like the thud of an electric shock, something inside his mind rang like an old bell and there was nothing but light.  
  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
“Tim,” Big Ears yelled, “we have to go, help me with the machine.” The kid was just standing there, frozen, his eyes wide in horror as he looked at the Captain's body. “Tim, there's nothing you can do for him, I need you to help me!”  
  
“Leave it.” Tim looked up at last, his eyes locking onto Big's and shaking his head slightly. “It's not worth dying for.”  
  
“Then what the  _fuck_  are we doing here in the first place?” Big snarled, hefting the machine in his arms as best he could. “If it's worth risking my brother's life for, then it'd better be worth bloody dying for, now move your scrawny little arse over here and  _help me!_ ”  
  
Tim finally moved, snapping out of it and hastily shoving all his equipment back into his bag, securing it on his back, before grabbing the other side of the machine. Juggling the weight of it between them, they finally managed to wiggle towards the door, Tim casting one last look back at the prone Captain before pushing through it. Big didn't even spare the body a glance, focusing only on getting the machine and the kid out of here before it was too late.  
  
The Captain could take care of himself.  
  
**************************************** ***  
  
“Physical contact,” Johnson managed to gasp out, rising to her feet and shrugging off her pack before grabbing her torch, pushing back the images and voices in her head as best she could. It took her a few seconds to be able to gain enough control to undo her jacket but she unzipped it as fast as she could, clumsily tossing it aside to reveal her plain black vest underneath.   
  
“Physical contact helps, strip!” She yelled as loud as she could, stumbling down to kneel besides the unconscious Pugh and tugging off his jacket. As soon as his arms were bare, she pulled him up into a clumsy bear hug, shining her torch straight in their faces and breathing heavily, even as she heard her team slowly obeying.   
  
Pugh's moaning was lessening and she knew it was working, but they needed more. Lowering her torch enough to see, she looked around at her team as they moved, Bill stripping Ben down to his trousers with an efficiency she knew John would envy, before tossing him over his shoulder so he could stay armed. Staggering to her feet, she looked round the room, feeling more than seeing the creature.  
  
“Circle, facing outwards, injured and civilian in the middle, now! Doc, take care of them!” Dragging Pugh back a few paces to roughly the middle of the room, she lay him out, then helped Bill drape Ben alongside him, crossing over their limbs as much as possible and just hoping it would be enough to keep them going until they could kill this thing and break its hold. Tom took over quickly, his fingers shaking as he grabbed his medical kit and set to work sedating the men, forcing their minds to shut off from the images overwhelming them and hopefully preventing any further damage.  
  
Standing as straight as she could, Johnson drew her torches, one to see with, pointed at her body, its light seeming to infuse her skin with warmth. The UV light that they hoped would give the bastard creature enough of a sting to make it back off, that she was wielding like a gun and aiming it blindly into the dark, its light catching anything lighter in the room and making it throb with purple.  
  
As they moved into position, the team instinctively stepped back. Moving closer together, they linked arms, the heat and warmth of another person pushing the darkness back just a fraction, just enough. Johnson could hear their breathing calming, strength returning as the thoughts in her head began to still, allowing her to take control again. She waited until they were all calm, their breathing steady in the dark, then nodded to herself.  
  
“Okay boys, torches on the ground, facing inwards to the others, protect the injured and cover your opposite, then face out, UV on.” They obeyed without question, the lights fading a little for a few seconds then casting a ring of shadows over the walls of the room, the circle of soldiers looking like a child's chain of paper dolls. The UV picked out colourful patches in and around the shadows but no trace of the creature; not that she expected to see it really, but-  
  
There. A flash of eyes in the darkness, just for a second, flaring and angry and alien. She could remember staring into a weevil's eyes for the first time, feeling the wrongness of its mere existence, the animal savagery of it, but this was different. With the weevil she had felt a begrudging respect for it, its behaviour only what it needed to do to survive, she had respected its strength and ability like she would a tiger in the wild; she would still kill the fucker if it threatened her, but she didn't feel any great satisfaction from the kill, nor the brief flash of sympathy she suppressed with a human kill. Instead it was just an animal, prey.  
  
But this... She could feel the intelligence in its gaze, cold and assessing, taking in everything about her, knowing her from the inside out and ready to rip her mind apart if she gave it half a chance. It wanted her broken and destroyed, it wanted her out of its space. There was intelligence there but it was feral, shredded and mad, hurt and looking to hurt her in the same way.   
  
It was beyond hope, beyond reasoning, beyond even sympathy. It needed to die, to be put down and out of its misery, its gaze torn between the instinct to survive and the desire to give in, to end it all.  
  
Whereas her survival instinct was very much intact.  
  
Fixing it with her torch, she yelled and the others twisted, following her beam and spotting the eyes, more lights joining hers, forcing it back but also pinning it in place, working their way either side of it and forcing it back towards the wall. She could feel it wriggling, screaming in her mind and clawing at her memories, gouges being scratched through her mind, and she could hear Cuthbert scream behind her, a thud echoing through the room as he fell to the floor, but she didn't dare look, didn't dare take her eyes off of it.   
  
“Tom,” she gasped through gritted teeth, “the box, we need it.”  
  
He didn't answer, merely appeared by her side, ducking under her and Bill's linked arms to pass the box through. Bill grabbed it, letting go of her and taking the box instead, his face set into a grimace as he fumbled with the catches. She didn't stop him, didn't question him, knowing instead that nothing short of shooting him would stop him taking out the creature now, personally, bare fist fighting if he could but this would do.   
  
“Form a line, force it back into a corner.” She didn't look, didn't see them shift to obey, the circle breaking and changing, curving to stretch out either side of her, with Bill ahead of them as they angled slightly, their lights stronger above, below and beside the creature but moving off of it a little, then darting back over one side, forcing it to retreat in the direction they chose, driving it back towards the wall. Bill ducked forward, hurrying into the corner of the room and angling the box so that the opening faced the corner, creating a perfectly pitch black sanctuary.  
  
They drove it forwards, Bill's grimace becoming a steady series of gasps and groans. He began thrashing his hands against the floor, the walls, anything he could reach as the creature drew near, sensing him, latching on to him to keep itself stronger.   
  
“Fuck...” he gasped, slamming his head against the wall as the others tried to go quicker, flashing an occasional direct blast over the creature to try and break its hold and give Bill some relief. “Get it... Quickly...”  
  
“Run,” Johnson said softly, darting forwards and dragging her team with her, their lights getting stronger, brighter, harsher on the creature as they drew close, forcing it into the corner. She could hear it now, unsure if the sound was in her ears or her head as it filled her entire body, the force of it making her ribs hurt as though at a rock concert. It was unbearable, such a sound of complete agony it was ripping her apart.  
  
Then it spotted the box, the darkness, and in a soft flash of black the creature ducked inside, a soft thud sounding through the metal, its exhaustion forcing it to seek refuge in corporeal form, if only for a second, like a drowning man surfacing for one more gasp of air.   
  
Bill slammed the box shut, the scream of rage and despair coming from the creature making them drop to their knees, hands over their ears, unable to bear it as Bill locked the box and fumbled for the button.  
  
A sudden flash filled the room, and for a second she thought the box had exploded, but then it stopped. The sound was gone, her body was calming, still terrified but fading, her mind back in control and telling it to relax, that it was okay that...  
  
It was over.  
  
Bill was curled on his side by the wall, tears running down his face, his hands over his head as though in pain, but he was breathing, harsh sobs filling the air as he fought to escape the creature's final attack. But he was awake, alive, he would recover. As for the others-  
  
She twisted on the floor, her hands splaying out to support her as she looked behind her to the circle of torches, still shining over her fallen men. Tom was sat up between them, his face pale and drawn but his eyes alert as he checked on his patients. “Doc,” she managed to croak out, her voice hoarse as though from screaming- or maybe she had been screaming and she just hadn't registered it. It was enough to get his attention and he turned, deathly pale as he faced her but forcing out a small smile as he held Ben's wrist.  
  
“They... They're showing normal brain readings, I had to sedate them to protect their neurological functions, but they are okay. At least, they will be when they wake up.”  
  
Nodding, Johnson looked at the box in the corner and swore quietly. Waking up.  
  
Keying her mike open, she forced herself to sound stronger than she felt. “Team A to base, subject neutralised, alert Team C.“  
  
 _”Acknowledged Team A. Be advised, Noddy is showing signs that he will be waking up. Also, we uh, have a situation with Big and Tiny...”_  
  
Johnson looked round for Big Ears before remembering where he was and frowning. Hopefully he had heard that anyway, and if not it would be a nice surprise for when he got out of this.  
  
“What sort of situation?”  
  
As she listened, Johnson closed her eyes and let her head tilt back, trying to resist the urge to scream. Some days it just never stopped. But she would do whatever she could to get all her men home safely.  
  
If she could just keep the Captain from getting them all killed first.  
  
“Doc, help Bill and Ben, Dibble, grab Cuthbert, Hugh, take Pugh and grab those scientists, get them all out of here then get your arses back to rejoin us in double time. Barney, Magrew, Grub, you are with me.” Staggering to her feet, she pulled her jacket and pack back on and put her UV torch away, swapping it for her gun. “Let's go find our boys.”  
  
****************************************  
  
Michael was alone in the light. The creature was gone. The pain had lessened, his mind floating, not quite there, and he couldn't see anything but light. Was this heaven?  
  
“Michael? Come on, talk to me Michael.”  
  
He forced his eyes open, feeling as though he hadn't seen the sun for weeks, the light around him almost unbearable, hurting his eyes. There was only one blurry shadow distinguishing itself from the brightness. As he blinked, a face came into view and he frowned.  
  
“Are you... You an angel?”  
  
Laughing, the face smiled at him and took his hand, now free of the restraints.  
  
“No, it's Lois, remember me? I'm Torchwood.”  
  
Torchwood.  
  
Torchwood had done this to him. They had been torturing him, kidnapped him, and now they were going to kill him.  
  
Acting on instinct, he grabbed her throat and squeezed tight.  
  
***********************************  
  
Doctor Grace Stephens moved as quickly as she could around the room, calming and soothing the awakening patients, helping them remove themselves from the machines and watching for any signs of distress. So far most were coming round just fine, but a couple seemed to be taking longer to revive, their faces twisted in pain or fear, she couldn't tell which.   
  
Yelling instructions for everyone to stay still and wait for her to deal with their wires, she hurried from bed to bed, checking her patients. She was so distracted, so many patients on the move, that she didn't see the figure coming up behind her.  
  
“Step away from those patients! Who the Hell do you think you are?” She'd forgotten about the nurse they'd knocked out. Damn.  
  
Grace froze, a tight smile on her face as she nodded to the wide eyed young man she was helping before letting go of his IV catheter.  
  
“Who am I?” She turned slowly, anger building inside her as she listened to the moans of the recovering patients. “I am a doctor. I took an oath to protect my patients and above all,  _do no harm_ . I'm here to help these people. I am going to help them.”   
  
“But your bosses,” she took a step forward, anger almost crackling in the air as everyone went silent, watching, “they have deliberately helped keep these people from getting proper care. They have kidnapped them from their proper physicians and families. They have tortured a young man. They have colluded with a system that would have killed every single one of them as soon as they began to wake up, if we hadn't found out and stopped it!”  
  
“No, they wouldn't-” the nurse stuttered, backing away until she hit the bottom of another bed.  
  
“They would and they did. For money. So, the real question is, nurse, who are you with? Do you want to help these patients or hurt them? Because they're awake now. They're awake, and hurt, and I would bet they are pretty angry right now, so they're not such an easy target. So, who are you, Nurse? Are you a healer or a killer?”  
  
The nurse was pale, shocked and shaking her head. “I... I didn't know, I thought...” Her voice dropped, low and not much more than a whisper as she looked around the faces. “I thought I was helping.”  
  
“You can now,” Grace said sternly, gesturing around the room. “Help your patients. And let whatever God you believe in take care of the rest.”  
  
As the nurse scurried off, hastily getting to work, Grace let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, then looked round the room at the shocked faces and sighed. Ah.  
  
“Look, everyone, there's a lot going on here that even I don't understand, and I promise you will be debriefed later, but right now we need to get everyone up because we might have a little resistance in getting you out of here. Answers later, right now, move!”  
  
*********************************  
  
Lois gasped at the pressure on her throat, strong thumbs pressing desperately against her neck. Tugging on his fingers, trying to get them to stop, she could see stars hovering at the edge of her vision; the pressure of trying to draw a breath hurt her chest and he just seemed to be getting stronger as she faded. She was going to lose.  
  
Giving up on fighting him, she let go, instead bringing her hand down to her jacket pocket. She fumbled her fingers in the fabric, trying desperately to find it even as the darkness in her vision grew. There. She could feel her fingers weakening as she struggled for air, her vision blurring, but she held on tight as she brought her prize up and pressed it tight against Michael's arm and pulled the trigger.  
  
The stun gun fired, a tingle of energy transferring from his grip through her throat and making her skin prickle with electricity. The shot was more than enough to weaken his grip, Michael's arm instantly going dead and his other one drew back too, cradled to his chest, numb. He fell back down to the bed with a thud.  
  
Rubbing her throat, Lois stepped back out of range of his arms and looked at him, furious. He was weak, barely able to move, but he was still conscious.  
  
“You alright?” She choked out at last.  
  
“What the hell was that?” He whispered, weak as a kitten.  
  
“Stun gun. Be grateful I went for your arm, didn't want to risk knocking you out fully, I figured your brain has been fried quite enough lately. Plus it will make things a damn sight easier if you can get out of here under your own steam.”  
  
“My own... What?”  
  
“Forget it, you should recover your movement in a couple of minutes, it's only a light shock, I just wanted to stop you bloody strangling me.” Rubbing her throat again, she punched him lightly on the shoulder. “What the hell did you do that for?”  
  
“You're trying to kill me!”  
  
“No I'm not you moron, I'm trying to save you!”  
  
Blinking, Michael stared up at her. “But, those guys, Torchwood, they said-”  
  
“Duh, 'they' lied! It wasn't us that took you, we've been looking for you ever since we got your text message! Tim's been worried sick! You really think that we would-”  
  
“What do you expect me to think, you're the secret agents? At least you say you are, how am I supposed to trust you?”  
  
“Oh for-” Looking round the room, she found a small cupboard and opened it. Grabbing the carrier bag inside it, she grinned as she spotted clothes. “Right, put these on,” she said, throwing them at him, “and get up. We're gonna need your help.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Wincing as he began pulling out the wires and lines attached to him, he was grateful when she turned her back to give him some privacy. “What's in it for me?”  
  
“How about a chance to get out of here, and maybe get a little bit of revenge on the people who put you in here?”  
  
“And?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“What else?”  
  
Sighing, Lois shrugged, staring at the door and wishing he would hurry up. “I'll... go out with you.”  
  
“You're not my type.”  
  
“Tim's phone number?”  
  
“Already got it.”  
  
“I'll buy you both dinner and tell him to put out, how's that?” she shot back in exasperation.  
  
“I don't need charity dates.”  
  
“Then stop bitching, get dressed, and call the boy yourself! Honestly,” she muttered, shaking her head and taking up position by the door, stun gun at the ready. “Men. And they say women are complicated.”  
  
  
**************************************** **  
  
“Base to all teams, the creature has been neutralised and the packages are safe for now, but expect incoming. I've got,” Jimmy pulled up the satellite feed for the area around the hospital and focused on the fast moving dark vehicles speeding towards it. “Four incoming. Be prepared.”  
  
 _”Acknowledged,”_  Gwen's voice came over the radio. A single tap followed, the transcript on the screen marking it as Ianto's.  
  
********************************  
  
Ianto watched as the flurry of movement outside the conference room window increased, resisting the urge to smile as a blank faced young man knocked on the door and beckoned the rep out for a whispered conversation. Ianto glanced at Cassie, watching as she took advantage of the distraction to close her eyes for a moment and rebalance herself.  
  
As soon as the rep turned around again though, she was alert and smiling, watching closely as he took his seat.  
  
“Anything wrong?” Ianto asked quietly.  
  
“Huh? Oh, nothing serious, you know how it is, there's always something that crops up. Now, where was I?”  
  
“The benefits of your bespoke search service,” Cassie offered, her voice clear and sharp as a splash of cold water, and it seemed to have the same effect on the salesman.  
  
“Of course! Well, as I was saying, we have a vast range of services on offer and can even procure rare items for you by consulting our local suppliers...”  
  
**************************************** *******  
  
In the Hospital reception, Gwen Williams smiled and reached into the baby carrier, selecting by touch her weapon. Drawing it out, she put the carrier down on the seat and stood, holding the gun high above her head as she yelled.  
  
“Ladies and gentleman, this is an emergency situation, I am ordering you to evacuate the hospital as quickly as possible!” There were screams at the sight of the gun, people ducking down in their seats or hurrying out of her sight, but the rest of her team, hidden in plain sight among the waiting patients, sprang into action, regrouping beside her and taking the rest of the weapons. “You,” she said, gesturing to the receptionist with her empty hand. No sense in scaring them too much by pointing guns  _at_  people. Not yet anyway. “Sound the fire alarm.”  
  
“I...”  
  
“Now!” Gwen yelled, bringing the gun down to point at the reception desk. Actually, she was aiming a good two feet to the right of the receptionist, but she was guessing the poor girl didn't know that.   
  
As the alarm rang out, people looked panicked, freezing in their places, but obviously wanting to run. Bringing her gun up again, she nodded to them. “Well go on then!”  
  
As the civilians began to rush for the doors, Gwen's team sprang into action, taking up positions by the doors into the hospital and behind the reception desk. As soon as the area was clear, she hurried around the room, pulling the blinds over the windows and locking the door as best they could.  
  
“Team C to base, front is secure. Standing by.”  
  
**************************************** ********  
  
Richard winced at the noise; the sound of the fire alarm was deafening in the small but plush room. “I think that's my cue.” Richard swallowed hard as he nodded to his bodyguard before rising to his feet, pulling the stun gun from inside his jacket and running out into the corridor, pointing it at the VIP receptionist, her eyes widening.   
  
“Time to go 'ome love,” Andy said. “But don't worry, we'll take care of this bit.” She froze at the sight of the guns then scurried off like a startled rabbit.  
  
“That was easy.”  
  
“That was nothing. Wait until the big boys arrive.” Hurrying to the VIP entrance, Andy quickly locked it and pulled a sofa in front of it to barricade it. Unlike the main reception, there was only one frosted window in here to better protect their clients privacy, which ultimately made it easier to secure.  
  
He hoped.  
  
“Sparkles to base,” Richard called out, hand to his microphone. “Back is secure, standing by.”  
  
*************************************  
  
Lois hammered on the locked ward door, Michael beside her. “Grace! It's Lois! Let us in!” The door finally swung open and they hurried inside, stopping short at the number of people now milling around the room. “Wow. It definitely worked then.”  
  
“Pretty much, we've got three still unconscious but it looks like they will recover. Base says we've got baddies headed this way but the entrances are secure, we should be safe here until-”  
  
A sudden pounding at the door made them all stop and turn.  
  
“Open up right now!” The door shook, as though something was being pushed against it as a makeshift battering ram.  
  
“Forget I said anything,” Grace added, hurrying back to her patients. “Everybody, move the beds against the door, now!” Pulling her unconscious patients to the back of the room, Grace threw Lois a tight smile. “Looks like we might have a bit of a siege on our hands.”  
  
“They'll come get us, I know they will,” Lois called back, helping the gowned patients to move the beds. “They will. ” Stopping, she brought her microphone up to her mouth to hurry them up. “Base, we are trapped in the room, wolves at the door, but we are secure for now. Just tell the others not to dawdle downstairs too much, okay?”  
  
 _”Acknowledged. Hang tight.”_  
  
“Yeah like I had a mad urge to go anywhere,” Lois muttered, the connection already broken. “Alright people come on, and for goodness sake put the damn brakes on properly!”  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Johnson looked helplessly up at the warehouse walls, knowing all too well one of her best men and a civilian were still trapped inside and wishing with all her heart that she could reach them. Instead, they stared at the locked door, picturing the pair of them inside, frantically climbing higher to get to the roof.  
  
But then what? They couldn't get a helicopter here in time, although UNIT had one on the way. They couldn't stop the countdown, not in time, they couldn't get between the buildings-  
  
“Oh,” she breathed quietly, staring at the warehouse in front of her part of the steady grid of warehouses she knew made up the complex. A grid. All standing apart from each other, a set distance, big enough to drive trucks through, but still relatively close.   
  
Opening her comms, she ran towards the next building, looking up to try and find its number. “Base, team A. Urgent, do  _all_  the warehouses in this complex have explosives in?”  
  
 _”What?”_  
  
“Will they all blow? Are any empty or not important enough to destroy, come on Jimmy, I need to know if there are any safe buildings adjoining it?”  
  
 _”I, uh... Checking!”_  Listening to the dead air, she looked up to the roof of the building, Barney by her side, his mask long gone and his weathered eyes regarding her curiously.  
  
“What's the plan boss?”  
  
“Look at the rooves, they're what, max twenty metres apart? Less than 25 anyway.” She glanced at Barney, his appraising eye assessing the distance, then a look of understanding on his face as he nodded. “Can you make the shot?”  
  
“Depends if there's anything to grip onto, looks like they're sheet metal, might not be able to get the hook in.”  
  
“We don't have much choice.” Nodding, he still looked worried.  
  
“You know the civilian will never manage it, he'll need a buddy, and Noddy's our best climber. Dunno who could make that stretch.”  
  
“Big can,” she said decisively. “He has to.”  
  
“And the machine?”  
  
“Men first,” she said coldly, regarding the scene. “Then we worry about metal.”  
  
“Understood.”  
  
 _”Team A, base, 12 and 14 are armed, you can't go on the long side, but 18 is safe, repeat, warehouse 18.”_  
  
“Acknowledged, A out.” Closing the line, she span on the spot, counting the walls around her until she found it. Nodding to her team, she pointed it out. “18, we have less than ten minutes to get to the roof and retrieve our boys. Let's move!”  
  
**************************************** *  
  
Tim forced himself to focus only on the hatch above him and his hands on the rungs, climbing higher and higher and not looking down. _Never_  look down. His breath was ragged, and he could hear the edge of fear in it, his hands gripping onto the ladder so tightly he could barely feel anything else at all. He was terrified. For all his jokes about embracing fear and living on the edge, he was close to panic about what might lie ahead. Trapped on top of a burning building, no way out.  
  
He couldn't help it, all he could picture in his mind was the twin towers burning.   
  
He'd just been a kid, 12 years old, watching the whole thing on TV with that sort of detachment of innocence, unable to quite believe that it was real, as though it was just another disaster movie playing in the afternoon. All that was missing was an over the top laughing baddie and a dashing hero to save the day. He'd watched, his teachers too horrified to do more than turn on the TV and gather them all into the hall, an unusually attentive and well behaved audience to the unfolding disaster.   
  
They'd tried to joke about it, to brush it off, but he was a kid from New Jersey and it was all too obvious that this wasn't some impersonal disaster. He'd watched as one of his teachers had broken down and been taken out, a whispering going round that her husband worked in the North Tower but he had still not been able to believe it. It couldn't be real. It couldn't affect someone he knew.  
  
He'd watched the towers fall, not able to take it in, but it was later, when he read in his mom's newspaper about the people who had jumped, that it had been real. To be that afraid, that sure of death, that you would choose to jump... For a skinny, short kid who was afraid of heights, that was the real terror, the thought of being so out of options that trying to fly seemed like a good idea. It had haunted him for weeks.  
  
And now he was about to see if he could beat the odds and fly. It was only maybe six storeys, about 12 metres, but it might as well be a thousand. He couldn't hope to survive that fall.  
  
As he approached the hatch and had to let go of the ladder with one hand to reach it, he clung on fiercely with the other, his gasps becoming more terrified as he wrapped his skinny limbs around the metal rungs, desperately trying to brace himself enough to get the strength to open it. When it finally shifted up, letting him flip it open, he blinked at the sudden daylight and held on tight to the ladder again, working out how to get off it. It extended up above the hatch, rising a couple of feet above the hole so he could climb up and simply step off it. He just had to climb and step. Just a little further.  
  
Forcing his shaky limbs to move, he climbed up, feeling the sunlight hit his black clothes and warm him, seeping through to his skin and making him realise he was alive, he was still alive. He just had to keep going.   
  
It took every fragment of courage he had left to force his foot off the rung and hold it out over the open space until it settled on the roof, his sneaker slipping on the loose gravel until he put enough weight on it to be secure. Testing his hold, he maintained his death grip on the ladder as he shifted his weight over, not breathing as he felt every muscle in his body tensing, having to concentrate to relax them enough to swing his body over until he could move his other foot off the ladder, carefully edging to the roof, finding his footing until-  
  
As soon as he could, he pushed away from the ladder, collapsing onto the rough shingle and breathing heavily. His heart was trying to break through his chest as he fumbled his shaking fingers through his pockets, frantically patting them down until he found the borrowed cigarette and his lighter. It took him five attempts to light it, during which time Big's head emerged from the hatch, a thin cable from the machine tied around his body and cutting into him as he swung himself out of the hole.  
  
“Kid.... Little help,” he managed to gasp out, and Tim moved instantly, rolling over to lie flat on his stomach on the roof, the cigarette clamped between his lips as he grabbed onto the cable and took some of the weight of the rift manipulator, helping to give Big enough slack to get behind the ladder and brace himself. Together, they hauled the machine up and out of the hole, easing it down onto the roof beside them before collapsing back onto the shingle again. “Thanks.”  
  
“'s'no problem,” Tim gasped, drawing back heavily on the cigarette and feeling the smoke unfurl inside him. He made a small noise of complaint as Big pulled the cigarette from his lips and took a drag himself, blowing smoke out shakily before passing it back. “Didn't think you smoked.”  
  
“Thought you'd quit.” Nodding, Tim stared up at the sky and breathed deeply, trying to bring his body back under control.   
  
“Now what?”  
  
“Need to find... a way down,” Big coughed out, the smoke irritating his out of practice lungs as he forced himself to sit up. “Maybe a ladder or fire escape or something.”  
  
Rolling onto his side, suddenly aware of the hundreds of sharp stones digging into him, Tim gazed out around the rooftop and frowned as he took in the rows of solar panels, greedily gobbling up as much energy as they could from the weak Cardiff sun. Pushing himself to sit up, he felt his heart sinking. There didn't seem to be much else there, nothing standing out, just the flat horizon of panels and beyond that the other warehouses-  
  
He blinked. He must be imagining it.  
  
“Big,” he said, pointing his cigarette at his hallucination on the next warehouse. “Do you see that?”  
  
Big Ears turned, his eyes tracking along Tim's finger until he suddenly grinned, nodding as he took in the faint edge of black figures climbing on to the warehouse roof. “I see it.”  
  
“Is that-”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Do you think they-”  
  
“Let's find out,” Big said quickly, rising to his feet and untying himself from the rift manipulator and grabbing one end of it. “Come on kid, you think you can manage a little bit more?”  
  
“If it means not learning how to fly or turning into Kentucky Fried Tim, fuck yeah.” Staggering to his feet, Tim grabbed the other end of the Manipulator, fumbling it as his tired fingers protested. Pausing, he wrapped the cable attached to it around his wrist for support, before trying again. Better.  
  
Lifting it up, they nodded to each other and ran.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear. Except a creature be part coward, it is not a compliment to say it is brave.”  
> Mark Twain

Johnson ran to the edge of the roof, eyeing up the gap between the warehouses, and wincing. It was a long way, just about as far as their rope would stretch, but they had to try. Looking behind her, she watched Hugh run to join them, having safely left the others at the vans and grabbed the weapon; the grappling hook launcher in his arms was large but simple enough. Powerful, most definitely not for the general public, but ultimately another useful tool in their artillery.   
  
She just hoped it was good enough.  
  
Barney took the gun and set himself up by the edge of the warehouse, appraising the gap and the heights carefully. “Gonna need to stand on the edge to make the shot, need the height or the hook's gonna drop short.”  
  
“Understood.”   
  
Nodding to Hugh, she watched as he moved to stand behind Barney. As soon as he was stood by the thin wall around the edge of the building, Hugh clipped a carabiner onto Barney's waistband and ran a thin wire between them, hooking it around a pipe on the roof for leverage, before attaching it to himself. He then grabbed hold of Barney's waist, his fingers hooking into his belt loops as Barney climbed up onto the edge.  
  
Content he was secure, Barney switched all his focus to the machine in his hands, checking through the sight for a suitable place to attempt to hook onto. As he watched, he could see Big and Tim running across the roof, lugging the huge machine between them. The kid looked exhausted, like he had very little left in him, but Big was still going strong, his mouth in a thin, grim line as he jogged across the shingle. Barney could see it in the waver of his legs though, his body tiring rapidly. The machine was heavy and Big had already dragged it and himself up a ladder, and now he was going to have to haul himself and maybe the kid across a line.  
  
This was definitely risky. Still, it beat certain death.  
  
Focusing on his target, then aiming a little higher to give the hook enough lift to hit home, Barney pulled the trigger and hoped.  
  
***********************************  
  
Tim gasped as he watched the puff of something firing on the opposite roof then a shape came hurtling through the air, stretching towards them, a loud clang ringing through the air as it hit the metal of the warehouse-  
  
Then a fainter clatter as it fell, rattling down to the ground below. Missed.  
  
Swallowing hard, he tried to keep running, his sneakers catching on the roof as his body tired, his fingers almost fumbling the machine a few times before the cable wrapped around his wrist jerked it back into his grasp. Tim could feel his lungs burning, the machine heavy in his arms, and the knowledge that this may not work, that they could die here was hiding in the back of his mind, a paralysing fear that he was trying so hard to avoid, to deny the possibility of it completely. They weren't going to die here. They couldn't.  
  
They could.  
  
He couldn't get the image of Jack out of his head. He had to be dead, no one could have survived that shock. But they should have checked, shouldn't they?  
  
“Big...”  
  
“Shut up and keep running, save your breath.”  
  
“Jack, I can't believe he's really dead-”  
  
“Don't stress yourself about it. Look, just trust me kid, there's nothing you need to do back there, we will sort him out later.”  
  
“Sort him out? You mean take care of the body?”  
  
He was surprised when Big Ears laughed. “Yeah, something like that. Look, Tim, just keep going, once we get out of this mess, once we're safely back on the ground and not a ticking bomb, I'll explain.”  
  
“Explain what?”  
  
“Just...” Big Ears shifted the machine and Tim grunted as his arms struggled to hold it. “It's complicated.”  
  
“Complicated?”  
  
“For fuck sake kid, will you just shut up and run?”  
  
Tim nodded, focusing on the run, trying to push the image of Jack's body out of his mind. They were nearly at the edge of the warehouse, streaks of sunlight peeking through the cloud cover in places and casting patterns of light and shadow on the rooftop, mesmerising him if he focused on his feet. In spite of the danger, the struggle and seriousness of his situation Tim suddenly found his mind replaying their earlier conversation and before he realised what he was saying, the words slipped out.  
  
“Do you really think I'm scrawny?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“My ass. You said I have a scrawny ass. What's scrawny?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“What does it mean?”  
  
He could hear Big Ears grunt, the weight shifting again as they drew closer to the edge. “You are something else, you know that right?”  
  
“I just... Is scrawny good or bad?”  
  
“Let me get this straight, we're in the middle of stealing tech from the bad guys, my friends are on the next warehouse and will either save us or watch us die, we just electrocuted Jack, we've got people working deep in the bad guy's lairs, and you're worrying about whether I think you've got a cute arse?”  
  
“Wow, way to make me sound shallow...”  
  
“I'm gonna blame it on shock,” Big Ears said decidedly, stopping them by the edge, grunting as together they eased the machine to the floor. Tim gratefully unwrapped the rope from his wrist, rubbing the forming ring of bruising coming up. “You're in shock. You're not really a narcissistic little twat, you're just trying not to think about how much danger we're in.”  
  
“And that I finished my only cigarette and badly need another.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Okay, I'm in shock.” Tim went silent for a minute, waiting as Big got his breath back, listening to his ear piece intently. Finally he spoke again. “So, am I scrawny?”  
  
“Kid, just-” Big grabbed him and pushed him aside as Barney fired again. This time the hook landed near their feet, sliding back towards the edge, kicking up the stones-  
  
Quick as a flash, Big skidded towards it and caught it with his foot, snagging the hook on his boot, the edges scratching into the leather before he managed to get hold of it with his hands. Looking around, he quickly found some sturdy piping connecting up the solar panels and tested it with his hands and feet. He kicked it before hooking the rope to it, tying it off quickly and forcing the hook to wedge into place. As soon as it was secure, he looked back to the other roof and raised his hand, his thumb up high to signal them.  
  
“Secure.”  
  
Tim watched as Barney jumped down from the edge, the team there doing something with their end of the rope. “Okay, so we have a rope, what now, do you have some kind of bridge thing you can do, some sort of hi tech thing?”  
  
“Nope,” Big said simply, focusing on the machine and checking the cable around it. “Didn't you ever go on any like adventure assault course things as a kid? You know, zip lines, pulling yourself along a rope, that sort of thing?”  
  
Swallowing hard, Tim looked at the rope tightening between the buildings, watched the way it swayed slightly before snapping taut, and realised what Big was saying. “Uh, no, really, really, no.”  
  
“Pity, would've helped,” Big said, standing up again and grinning evilly at Tim. “Come on, it's just a few metres, you'll be fine.”  
  
“It's not the few metres across that's worrying me,” Tim whispered back, his voice suddenly gone as he looked over the edge at the sheer drop to the tarmac below. “It's the ones to the ground...”  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Reloading the gun with a second rope, Barney waved to Big and took position again. The rope was thinner this time, lighter, and he didn't need to take as much care; this one wasn't for securing, it was for something else. Firing, he watched the thin line play out, the hook flying straight and true through the air before landing on the opposite rooftop. Big grabbed it quickly and gave a thumbs up.  
  
“Harness,” Johnson barked, watching as Dibble knelt down to grab the other end of the rope from the gun and attach it to three webbed harnesses. Hooking the harnesses onto the line, he tugged twice on the rope, firmly, then let go and watched as Big pulled rapidly on the other end, tugging them easily across the line towards him.  
  
“How long do we have?” Dibble asked, wincing as he watched Tim refuse to take the harness. The kid looked terrified.  
  
“Less than five minutes,” Johnson said.  
  
“Let's hope he can get the kid to move before then,” Barney added, shaking his head. This was not good.  
  
**********************************  
  
“Tim, come on, put the fucking harness on.”  
  
“No, I can't! I can't do this, I really can't!”  
  
“It's this or boom, remember?”  
  
“I just... I can't do it alone!”  
  
Big Ears sighed, taking in the terrified kid before him, and weighed up his options. He had planned to tie the Rift Manipulator to the line then drag it after himself, but it would slow them down, and if he needed to sweet talk the kid too...  
  
Making the decision, he wrapped one harness around the manipulator, securing it around the cables, and hefted the machine into place by the line, tying it off to the piece stretching over the flat roof itself. Testing the line, he nodded to himself, making sure it could slide freely, then tied the guide line they had used to send him the harnesses to it. Once secure, he lifted the whole thing up to the edge and pushed it over, praying the line held as it dipped alarmingly, sagging down as the machine slid under its own weight down the line towards the middle-  
  
It held.  
  
Immediately, the others pulled on the thinner line, tugging the machine towards them. Content that they had it taken care of, Big Ears focused his attention back on Tim.  
  
“Okay kid, it's just you and me now. I'm gonna put your harness on you, okay?”  
  
“And then what?” Tim squeaked, jumping as Big lifted his feet for him, sliding the straps to sit around his legs.  
  
“One step at a time, okay? Let's just put these on first.”  
  
“The bomb-”  
  
“We have plenty of time.” Big Ears kept his voice soft, calm and controlled, but he could feel the tension in his head and neck, his muscles cramping with the effort. One step at a time. Get the kid onto the line. If they could make it even halfway across they might survive. There was a chance. Forcing Tim's stiff arms into the harness, Big Ears tightened it more than was strictly necessary, trying not to be angry at the kid, but he couldn't help thinking that if his brother had been here they would be across by now.  
  
Of course, if Noddy had been okay they wouldn't have been here in the first place...  
  
Once Tim was strapped in, he turned to his own gear, slipping into it with ease and securing it around his body. Step one, done.  
  
Of course, step two was going to be a lot harder...  
  
***********************************  
  
“Oh, fuck,” Tim breathed as he edged closer to the rope, eyeing the thin line connecting him to the only slightly thicker rope with serious trepidation. “Big, I can't-”  
  
“Yes, you can, look,” Big explained, his patience wearing thin. “Look, the harness will hold you, the line has you clipped to the rope and this line,” he added, picking up another one, “has you linked to me. Now, either I can go first and pull you after me, or you can go first and I'll push you. But if you go second, you have to get off the roof yourself, understood?”  
  
Tim froze, looking at the edge and shaking his head quickly. “I can't-”  
  
“Okay, small steps, just... just sit on the roof, can you do that?” Nodding just a fraction, Tim dropped down to sit cross legged on the rooftop, feeling the solidity of it under him. His fingers played out over the surface, as though drawing strength from it. “There, that's not so bad, is it?” Shaking his head quickly, Tim didn't have the strength to speak any more. “Okay, now, I'm going to dangle my legs over the edge, I want you to do the same.”  
  
Tim watched as Big casually dropped his legs over the side of the building and swung them, as though he was just a big kid sitting on a table in a school room. Hesitantly, Tim forced himself to do the same, the feeling of weightlessness in his feet scary, but balanced out by the firmness of the roof behind him.  
  
“That's good kid, really good. Now, I'm gonna show you how I want you to swing out onto the line-”  
  
“Don't.”  
  
“Tim, seriously,” Big snapped, trying to keep his voice under control. “We've only got a minute or two left, just trust me, we have to do this and I'm not going to let you fall.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Promise. You're holding my money, remember?” Laughing shrilly, Tim nodded and shuffled a little closer to the edge, watching with huge eyes as Big turned around. Big slipped his hands out onto the rope, hooking them around it as he wiggled closer. The line securing him to the rope looked so thin, it couldn't possibly hold-  
  
Big Ears leaned back, his arms holding onto the rope as his legs spread out over the roof, telegraphing each move to Tim as he did it, gripping the rope tight as he let his hips slide off the roof, dropping his body down onto the rope. His hands gripped it tight as he moved his legs from the edge of the roof to the rope, hooking his ankles over it and finally pulling himself off the roof completely. Tim could see the harness line was taut, his weight supported, he was on the rope-  
  
“Okay kid, your turn.”  
  
*****************************  
  
Big Ears watched as the kid shifted to lie flat on his back on the roof, his eyes so wide with terror he almost felt sorry for him. Of course, the ache in his own body helped dampen that down, not to mention the thought going round his head that there was no fucking way he was going to die here today. And if the kid ended up getting him killed, there was gonna be hell to pay in whatever afterlife they ended up in.  
  
It sometimes surprised him that he still believed in one, that the childhood lessons stuck with him even after all he'd seen, even after seeing firsthand the hypocrisy done in the name of faith, the bigotry disguised as care. Everything he'd done, everything he'd seen and lost, and he still believed.  
  
“Come on kid, that's great,” he called as Tim let his head fall back from the roof, his long arms stretching out to grip the rope above his head. “Perfect, just hold on tight and pull yourself along a bit more...” A hesitant tug, but it was enough to slide his shoulders off the roof, the dip making him cry out in panic. “That's it, you're doing great.” Swallowing hard, he could see Tim's adams apple bounce in his stretched out throat, every ounce of strength the kid had left in him being used just to get off the roof. With one monumental effort, Tim managed to slide his hips free, his sneakers scrabbling desperately at the rooftop as he tried not to panic.  
  
“Big!”  
  
“It's okay, you're doing great.” Tim nodded once, a scream trapped somewhere in his eyes, but he was trying so hard that Big felt a new respect for him. He was just a child really, a civilian, but he was facing one of his worst fears, and that made him braver than any of them.   
  
Right now he wouldn't mind him being a little  _faster_  though...  
  
“That's it, just wrap your legs around the rope-”  
  
“I can't!”  
  
“Tim-”  
  
“I... I can't!”  
  
“Tim-” Looking at the frightened young man, Big suddenly saw something coming up behind him, a figure running over the rooftop towards them. “Oh.”  
  
“Oh what? Big? Oh what?!”  
  
****************************************  
  
Captain Jack Harkness ran across the rooftop as fast as he could, the countdown all too loud in his mind. Waking up on the floor was nothing new; the headache wasn't great but as deaths went, electrocution wasn't his worst. Plus side? Quick. Down side? Really dry mouth and a strong smell of barbecue that clung to his hair and filled his nose with each breath.  
  
He could see something going on, a line stretched out between the rooftops and hanging from it was Big Ears, a wry grin on his face as he let go with one hand long enough to wave to Jack. The move wasn't much but it made the second figure, the one still half on the building, look back, panicked eyes finding his-  
  
“Aaaaaaaaggghhh!” The kid screamed, visibly jumping on the rope, and fumbled, his hands locked in a death grip as his feet slipped off the edge of the roof and dropped. He was hanging vertically, clinging on for dear life and terrified, and looking like he had just seen a ghost.  
  
Wincing, Jack put on an extra burst of speed and skidded to his knees by the rope, his hand reaching out for the kid. Oops.  
  
***************************************  
  
He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die.  
  
Tim couldn't hear anything else but the words in his head, his feet kicking at empty air, his hands locked around the rope above his head and the harness digging in  _really_  painfully. Thrashing around, he tried to get back onto the roof, he had to get back-  
  
“TIM!” The yell was so loud it shocked him into staying still. “For fucks sake, just stay still, okay?” Nodding, he tried to look round but couldn't, then groaned as he felt a tug on his whole body. The line attaching him to Big Ears was taut, tugging him along the rope-  
  
Further from the building. Shaking his head, Tim gripped on tight to the rope.   
  
“Tim, either let go of the rope or pull yourself along, but don't you fucking dare fight me, you hear me? Come on kid, follow me, just look at me!”  
  
Twisting on the line, Tim forced himself to look round, his eyes finding Big Ears' at last. “That's it, just look at me. Nothing else, just me.” Nodding slowly, Big didn't break eye contact, Tim's gaze locked completely on him. “That's good. Now, I'm going to move, and I need you to come with me. Just slide your hands along the rope, you don't even have to let go, just let the rope slide between them, okay? Just slide your hands towards me, then tighten your grip and pull, got it?”  
  
This was hell, this, right here, definitely hell. Why else would a dead guy be there? He was already dead and this was hell, he was going to spend eternity trapped between two buildings and it wasn't fair-  
  
But the rope felt so real in his stinging hands as he finally managed to open his grip a little, sliding his fists towards Big. Gripping on, he let his hands and the harness and Big pull him a couple of feet further out. He kept his focus solely on Big, on nothing else.  
  
Then he felt movement on the rope behind him and shuddered. The ghost of Captain Jack Harkness was coming to get him-  
  
****************************************  
  
Jack was relieved he had at least taken his coat off before dying this time, the barbecue smell partly muted by the cleaner fabric, although the weight of it hanging down off his body as he climbed out onto the line wasn't helpful. He could see the skinny kid starting to panic again, but this time he was moving at least, frantically trying to drag himself away from the building-  
  
No, away from Jack. That was odd, why would he-  
  
“Oh,” Jack muttered to himself, pausing on the rope to give the boy a head start. He'd forgotten about that, that shock people had when he came back to life and they weren't expecting it. It really didn't happen to him that often. It was depressing how many times he died alone, but also heartening that the times he didn't were usually with friends, not strangers. Reviving hurt, it hurt his body right through to the pieces he had left of a soul, but somehow waking up and finding he had been watched over, loved, was soothing. It just made it all a bit easier to handle.  
  
Waking up and scaring the living daylights out of a boy who had watched him electrocute himself was less fun.  
  
“This... Isn't... Happening!”  
  
Jack could hear the kid half screaming that over and over as he dragged his body along the line, his moves energetic but really not that effective. He could see Big Ears watching, tensed and ready and the second the boy's grip was weakest, surging forward along the line and dragging them both closer to safety.  
  
Finally, Big's head brushed against the wall and Jack could see the others reaching for him, pulling him up onto the edge of the building. Finally Tim came close enough that they could grab his arms, ready to lift him up, his legs kicking frantically at the wall-  
  
Then the warehouse exploded, the line going slack. Jack could feel his body swinging through the air, heading for the wall, his hands gripped tight to the rope-  
  
A sharp pain snapped through the back of his head and he didn't see anything else.  
  
**************************************** *****  
  
Tim wasn't sure what hurt more; the friction burn on his hands as the world dropped out from under him and he slid a few inches along the rope, or the blinding pain as his kneecap smashed into the brick wall, or his elbow matching it a few seconds later. His confusion overwhelmed him, his mind trying to work out why he wasn't still hanging suspended from the rope-  
  
As he rebounded off the wall, twisting a little as he scrabbled to hold on tight, he caught sight of the building that had used to be behind him, the fire blinding him and the heat buffeting his body almost taking his breath away. The rope had gone because the building it was attached to was gone, the rope was just tied on at one end now-  
  
The rope was gone.  
  
He was hanging from what was left of it.  
  
Five storeys above the ground.  
  
Screaming, Tim began to panic, his sneakers scrabbling desperately at the brick wall as he stared up, trying to work out why he hadn't plunged to his death yet, then felt it, digging into his body. His harness was still on him, a thin line tautly stretched above his head and up to where a familiar pair of legs were hanging over the edge of the building. He was still tied to Big Ears, he would be okay as long as Big Ears-  
  
With a sudden jerk, the line dropped a inch, the legs above him sliding closer to the edge.  
  
They were going to fall-  
  
**************************************** **************  
  
“Grab him!” Johnson yelled, wrapping her arms around Big and bracing her feet against the wall to hold him back. The line joining his harness to Tim's was threatening to pull them both over. Barney managed to grab Tim first, hanging over the edge to grab the kid's wrist in a vice like grip as Tim hung on for dear life.  
  
“Don't drop me, don't drop me, oh God, please, please don't drop me!”  
  
Hugh looked over the edge, throwing himself down flat on the roof to lean as far over as he dared. Tim's terrified eyes locked onto his, sheer unadulterated fear filling his face as his free hand desperately grabbed up at them, trying to wrap itself around the rope. With a quick lunge, Hugh managed to grab on to the shoulder strap on Tim's harness, his fingers wriggling to try and get underneath the taut fabric.  
  
“Got him!”   
  
As one, they tugged hard, the smoke and heat from the other building intense, debris from the chain of warehouses going up and further explosions still hurtling through the air. The boy was light, but it was hard to get a good grip, his fear making him shake so much it was hard to hang on. Finally, they managed to heave him up, his torso coming over the edge of the building enough for Big Ears to grab him, tugging on his body and dragging Tim the rest of the way. Finally, with one last surge, Tim suddenly pulled free of the edge, escaping from gravity's death grip, and collapsing in a heap beside Big Ears. The soldiers could feel the kid shaking, absolutely terrified, his teeth chattering so hard he could barely speak.  
  
“M-m-my leg!” He finally wheezed out, his face twisting in pain. “It f-f-f-ucking hurts.”  
  
“Oh Hell,” Hugh yelled, looking back over his shoulder at them. “Fire!”  
  
As one, they leapt into action, using their gloved hands to beat out the flames licking up Tim's trouser leg. Barney flicked out a knife as soon as the flames were out and cut up the side of Tim's jeans, checking the material wasn't sticking to Tim's skin before quickly cutting it away completely. Assessing the damage, he stared at Tim's skin, checking his other leg too, before sitting back and blowing out a sigh of relief.  
  
“He's okay, burns look pretty minor and he's bashed his knees up good, but all things considered, it's not too serious.”  
  
“Not... too... serious?” Tim coughed out, struggling to drag his body around enough to sit up a little, Big moving to help prop him up so he could lean back against the soldier. “I just got blown up, nearly dropped off a building, set on fire, I...” Blowing out a shaky breath, he half collapsed back against Big Ears, Big reflexively hugging him tight and supporting him. Tim shivered, the heat of the forming burn on his leg, the adrenaline and fear, it was all becoming just too much to take. “And I lost my only cigarette,” he moaned.  
  
“Just as well,” Johnson said, looking over the edge and gazing down at the broken figure of Jack Harkness below. “Those things'll kill you.” As she watched, the corpse began to twitch, bones realigning like something out of a horror film. “We should go pick up Harkness. He'll be pissed if we leave him down there on his own.”  
  
“He's-” Tim wheezed, a freeze bout of coughing prompted by the thick smoke making Johnson frown and signal her team to pack up and move out again, the men moving swiftly to grab their stuff. “He's dead. Again.”  
  
“Only temporarily,” Big coughed back, shaking his head at Johnson as she threw him a concerned look. It was just a tickle from the smoke.  
  
“What?”  
  
“It's complicated,” Big started to say, but Johnson cut him off.  
  
“Jack's immortal. Oh and he's from the future.”  
  
“Oh,” Tim said simply, snuggling back into Big's arms and shivering again as his body complained about its mistreatment. “That's nice for him. Can I go home now?”  
  
“Sounds like a plan to me, Sammy will get annoyed if we don't go back soon.”  
  
“He's okay?” Big asked hopefully.  
  
“We got the word just as we were coming to get you, he's coming out from under the sedatives the doctors had him on. They'll need to check him out properly, but it sounds promising so far.”  
  
Letting out a long sigh of relief, Big collapsed back onto the roof, half dragging Tim with him. It was over.  
  
Sighing, Hugh looked down at the two men, then across at Barney. “Shotgun the skinny one.”  
  
“Deal,” Barney reluctantly agreed. Reaching down, they untangled the two men, Hugh hauling Tim into his arms as Barney unclipped him from Big then helped his comrade up.   
  
“S'nice,” Tim murmured, cuddling up into Hugh's arms. “I could get used to this.”  
  
“I'm only carrying you to the hatch, after that you're gonna have to help out. Either you climb by yourself, or it's piggy back time.”  
  
“Hatch?” Groaning, Tim shook his head and nuzzled deeper into Hugh's shoulder. “Oh fuck, not another ladder. Seriously, when we get home, I am never going anywhere without at least a fucking staircase ever again.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.”  
> C. S. Lewis

Lila could see nothing but the computer before her, battling through the systems to try and find as much detail as she could before they had to go, but she could hear Dave's steady mantra of curses beside her. Having shared an office with him for a while, she could block it out fairly easily, but she really wished she had her iPod with her to push him out properly. He was annoying.   
  
As she found herself mentally counting the number of times he said certain words, he was giving her a sense of how much time had passed since John had left them and that was making her nervous too. She should stop, disconnect and get them back in the shaft, back to the other room and safety.   
  
There were more connections though, the ones to the warehouses greying out as the systems were destroyed, but there were others too, at least two other sites, one of which was simply labelled “VS” and looked to be somewhere in America. Curious, she started to try to get through...   
  
She looked up as a scrambling noise came through the ceiling, the face of John Hart appearing in the opening again, and smiled. “About bloody time.”   
  
Shrugging, he started to turn himself around ready to drop down. “Told you, piece of cake-”   
  
As he twisted, something fell from his pocket, bouncing down to the floor, landing on one of the black tiles-   
  
And bouncing off it, hitting the white, a warning beep sounding through the air and getting faster, like a countdown.   
  
“Shit,” Dave whispered, freezing in place as John threw himself back into the narrow passage as something flared across the opening, the sound of snapping electricity filling the air, making him yell.   
  
Lila typed as fast as she could, trying to block the alarms, to stop the noise, even as she carried on downloading as much as she could about that mysterious VS, tracking the source back. North America. Nevada...   
  
“Lila!” She could hear John yelling at her, all thoughts of subtlety gone now. “Disconnect, now!”   
  
“Just a few more seconds, I can get this-”   
  
“Disconnect, dammit, that's an order!”   
  
“Just a little more-”   
  
“Lila, please! Now!”   
  
“Almost-” Lila screamed as her fingers seemed to flash, the keyboard lighting up, and felt a sharp thud of pain across her arms that made her sick to her stomach. She could feel the nausea growing, her head spinning around her, and then all she could hear was the faint sound of someone yelling her name as she fell.   
  
**************************************   
  
_”Base, Team B, we have a serious fuck up here, we triggered the alarm, it's just the vault one, it won't set off the doomsday switch, but I can't do anything about the locals, they will notice us any minute now and we're all screwed. We're trapped, I'm stuck in the vent shaft until I can get past an electric barrier and we lost L, she's unconscious, think it was electric shock.”_   
  
“Shit,” Jimmy swore, checking on the flow of data from Lila's computer and watching futilely as it went black. “Acknowledged, just get the hell out of there, we got all we could.”   
  
_”We're trying, believe me, I can get myself out the way but I can't leave them. Tell Ianto we may need the cavalry.”_   
  
“Will do, base out.” Opening up the channel to all members, Jimmy tried to keep the shaking out of his voice and looked up as the door opened, Martha Jones slipping into the room to join him again. “All teams, be advised, Team B have a code red, repeat, code red, they are trapped. Alarms are sounding, be alert for action.”   
  
***************************************   
  
Ianto looked up as Cassie nudged him, the office outside going crazy as people hurried around, some sort of alarm sounding. Darren Fields stopped the presentation and hurried to the door, opening it and snagging someone as they went past and having a hasty conversation. His face went pale as he turned back into the room and nodded to his guests.   
  
“I'm afraid we will have to cut the presentation short, bit of a problem...”   
  
“Nothing too serious I hope?” Ianto said, rising to his feet and pulling his jacket back on.   
  
“Ahh, no, just testing the alarms, got to check the systems after the blackout... I, uh, need to go check on something, you know how it is, someone will be here to take care of you in just a minute, I just have to...” Darren hurried out the door and Ianto's polite face dropped in a second.    
  
“This isn't good,” Cassie muttered.   
  
“We need to get to Quinn. Now.” Grabbing his jacket and coat, they headed for the door and, unnoticed in the general chaos, headed deeper into the offices.   
  
***********************************   
  
Dave shook himself down as he stared across the room. The netbook was smoking, the leads fried, and to his horror so were Lila's fingertips. “Lila!”   
  
“She's out for the count mate,” John's disembodied voice came from above him. “You need to get to her, check her heart's still going.”   
  
“Oh fuck...” Dave whispered, looking at the floor. “What about the tiles?”   
  
“We set off pretty much every alarm going, I think it's pretty safe to say they know we're here, just grab her and pull her back to the centre and check she's okay. I'm- Ow, you farking-” A snap of electricity came from the opening on the wall and Dave looked up.   
  
“You okay?”   
  
“Just singed a bit. I'm having trouble bringing this thing down but get her and I'll be with you soon as I can.”   
  
Nodding, Dave scrambled across the room and began dragging Lila behind him by her wrists. “Come on Lila, make some joke about Neanderthal's and dragging a girl back to his cave, you know you want to.” At her silence, he carried on sliding her until they reached the centre and he laid her out on her back. Her hands were red, her fingertips a dirty black and he could see red veins across her skin, rising up her arms. “Oh, shit.”   
  
Leaning close to her mouth, he was relieved to feel and hear her breath on his cheek. It was slightly rattly which he didn't like, but the important thing was she was breathing. Checking her pulse, he suddenly realised he had no idea what was a good sign and what was bad, so gave up. She had one. She had an airway, she was breathing, and she had a pulse. With a groan, he angled her limbs and rolled her into the recovery position, or at least close enough that he didn't think it would do any harm.    
  
That was precisely all he could remember from an old first aid course he'd done at Uni (he'd fancied the girl taking it and had foolishly hoped he would get to do a little kiss of life of his own on her later) and he sat back down again. All he could do now was wait until the big men with guns arrived.   
  
Or worse, the building exploded.   
  
“Way to think positive, Dave.”   
  
*************************************   
  
Ianto navigated his way through the office with ease, somehow not managing to draw any attention despite Cassie's unusual outfit. Most people were hurrying through the room, on some mission or other, whilst the rest-   
  
Looked very confused, like they had no idea whatsoever about what was going on.   
  
It didn't take them long to find him. Quinn's office was in the corner, a pair of internal walls jutting out into the mostly open plan space and a plain wooden door hiding whatever business he conducted in there from the rest of his staff. Drawing up to the door, Ianto flashed a quick grin at Cassie and knocked.   
  
“Piss off, I'm busy!”   
  
The grin grew wider before Ianto concentrated, wiping it off his face, and checked the stun gun in his pocket before he swept the door open. They strode into the office and Cassie took up position by the door, leaning against it to keep it closed behind them. The office's sole occupant was engrossed in his computer, his fingers and eyes a mass of manic energy as he worked, and he barely glanced at them.   
  
“You don't work for me, who the bloody hell are you?”   
  
Quinn sounded like he belonged in an episode of EastEnders, his accent containing traces of gruff, traditional cockney, but diluted by the effects of modern migration in the city. Yet it was still unmistakeably East London. The suit spoke of wealth, but new money not old, the fabric good and the suit tailored, but the shoes propped up on the desk weren't polished properly and the stubble dusting his face was less designer and more just scruffy.    
  
How much of the whole package was real and how much was an act for his clients was up for debate. Ianto himself had delighted more than one American tourist with his 'cute' accent before and now exaggerated it on purpose for certain contacts, finding that sometimes a purred please with the accent was worth a dozen logical reasons without.   
  
Extending his hand with a polite smile, Ianto stepped forward. “Ianto Jones, I've been looking forward to meeting you Mr Quinn.”   
  
“Yeah, sure,” Quinn looked up again and shook his hand, distracted, his eyes flicking up to Ianto's face, doing the all too familiar side swipe over his cheek, then back to his computer. “Look, now's really not a good time, Mr Jones...”    
  
It was as though someone had flicked a switch on an old record player and put him onto long play. “Jones.” Pushing his computer aside, Quinn pulled his feet down off the desk and shook his head, finally giving them his full attention. His face was pale but resigned as he leaned back in his chair and motioned to Ianto to sit down. “Ianto Jones. Should've bloody known, still, Welsh names, you lot got more variations of John Smith than I've ever seen before. Hard to keep up.”   
  
“I suppose I should be flattered you've heard of me. Then again, considering you've been spying on me for months, I half expected you to realise before we got through the door.”   
  
“What can I say, downside of running a secret evil empire on a need to know basis alongside a regular business, the henchmen don' always know what they're doin'.” Glancing at his computer again, Quinn shook his head. “I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and say you probably know more about the problems I've been having today than I do.”   
  
“You could say that.”   
  
“So it'd be your people down in my computer room and causing chaos at my warehouses, and really messing up those appointment targets at the hospital.”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
Sighing, Quinn reached out to his computer and typed in a command, shaking his head slightly. “Figures. How'd you find me so fast?”   
  
“Deborah.”   
  
“Oh.” Pulling his fingers back, he shook his head again. “Pretty girl, bit dumb for such a supposed genius. She dead?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“She will be once my clients find out she ratted us out. Then again, doubt I'll be around to see that so not worth worrying about.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Cassie asked softly. Ianto turned and watched her, her eyes focused completely on Quinn.   
  
“You don't run with the big boys without taking a few risks.” Quinn shrugged. “Business, ain't it. Bigger the reward, bigger the risk. Do well, big money, infamy, and power. Do badly, you don't do anything ever again.”   
  
“So, what's your plan then?” She continued, walking forward and leaning on the desk, watching every twitch of his face. “Fight one last stand, or come quietly?”   
  
“Oh come on love, you think I'm some kind of evil genius? I'm a businessman. I don't give a monkeys about revenge or any of that shit. You've won, I'm finished, so what? I've picked my way back up from worse before. 'cept this time my clients will kill me slowly and painfully first.” He shrugged again and stood up, straightening his suit. “'less you two kill me fast and quick first. Or I can wait for plan B-”   
  
He stopped as an alarm sounded, harsh and ringing, the purely mechanical sound of hammer on bell filling the air.   
  
“Fire alarm?” Cassie half yelled.   
  
“Of a sorts. See, your little saboteurs have ballsed up my systems royally, and about thirty seconds ago the panic alarm from the hospital added to the mess and triggered an automatic shutdown and uh, fireworks display to take out most of this building. Poison the well, so to speak. So, no files, no data, no information 'cept what's in my head and kept elsewhere. We prefer a more discrete approach. Run away, regroup, and come back somewhere else twice as strong. Just not with me in charge next time, but hey, that's the way things go.”   
  
“Can you stop the explosion?” Ianto asked, rising to his feet and sharing a panicked look with Cassie.   
  
“Nope,” Quinn said smugly.   
  
“Come on,” Ianto said quickly, “we have to move, Cassie, grab his hard drive-” Even as she reached for the machine the screen went black then filled with gibberish and static. Something was already wiping the system. “Disconnect it and go, we might be able to salvage something!”   
  
“Be my guest,” Quinn laughed, watching her work.   
  
“The explosives, you'd destroy your own people too?”   
  
“Oh puh-lease, I'm no monster. There's a ten minutes countdown to evacuate everyone. Even on a wet day when everyone stops to get their coats and cigarettes and blocks up the stairwells, we can clear it in five. No, my staff'll be out in time. 'Course, anyone who knows anything's already got retcon, thanks for that recipe by the way, brilliant stuff, had some cracking nights out with it-”   
  
Quinn winced as Ianto punched him, the force enough to turn his head round, but he just smirked and turned back again, rubbing his jaw. “Didn' know you had it in you.”   
  
“And that's why you've lost,” Ianto snarled back, pulling the stun gun from his pocket and holding it against Quinn's head. “You have no idea what me and my team are capable of.”   
  
“Go on then,” Quinn scoffed, “shoot me. You'll never get anything out of me.”   
  
“We can protect you,” Ianto whispered, his voice low and barely audible over the alarms but his lips were right next to Quinn's ear. “We can hide you where they can't find you.”   
  
Quinn snorted, and shook his head. “Nice, but there ain't such a place.”   
  
“We can keep you alive for longer than you deserve.”   
  
“Clock's ticking Jones, you've got maybe nine minutes left. Shouldn't you be running by now?”   
  
“What about the computer room here?” Cassie asked, her voice low. “We have people down there.”   
  
“Yeah, well, that's all automatic. Sealed shut. No way in or out now and ain't nothing I or anyone else can do about it.”   
  
“You're right,” Ianto whispered back, forcing the gun harder against Quinn's head. “There's nothing you can do and I've had enough of wasting my time on you. You don't want to tell us anything? Fine. But I'm not gonna make this easy on and just kill you.”   
  
Snorting, Quinn did his best to stand up straight but the gun was forcing his head to the side. “Kill me or leave me here to go down with me ship, 'cause I ain't coming willingly.”   
  
“Oh I think I'll take plan S,” Ianto purred, shifting his finger on the trigger.   
  
“S?”   
  
“Stun,” he whispered, even as he pulled the trigger. The sparks flew around Quinn's head and, with a gasp, he went limp, falling into Ianto's arms. “The bigger they are...” Shifting the limp body, Ianto staggered slightly as he hefted Quinn onto his shoulders. His leg began to ache almost immediately, but he forced himself to push through it, getting as comfortable as he could. “Cassie, you remember how to shoot?”   
  
Nodding, Cassie reached under the layers of her tunic and pulled a small pistol out. “I've got your back, Ianto. As usual.”   
  
“I'll try to make it up to you someday.”   
  
“That's what they all say.” She watched as he staggered his way around the desk, getting his balance. “Good to go?”   
  
“Yeah.” Tugging his sleeve with his mouth and switching on his microphone, Ianto dragged Quinn towards the door and hoped to God that the others could find their own way out.   
  
***************************************   
  
Cathy awoke quickly, jolting up out of a light doze as alarms sounded around her. “What the...” Wiping a sticky trail of drool from the side of her mouth, she jumped to her feet, swaying on the spot for a few seconds, before checking the clock. “Oh damn, I'm late for work.” She frowned as something trickled through her brain, demanding attention.   
  
The ringing. That wasn't her alarm clock. She was already at work.   
  
And that was the fire alarm.   
  
Yelping, Cathy hurried for the door, hoping in the confusion nobody would know she had dozed off in the break room.   
  
She didn't even remember the trio of IT technicians arriving, let alone that they were still in the depths of the building.   
  
**************************************** *   
  
John looked up as another alarm sounded, louder this time, and more urgent. “What the...”   
  
“Fire alarm?” Dave called out, his huddled form looking up at the wall. “What the Hell is going on out there?”   
  
_“John, it's Ianto, we've got to get out of the building now, it's going to blow in maybe ten minutes.”_   
  
“Awww fuck,” John muttered, looking round his tunnel. He could crawl back through, burst through the ceiling into any room he could find and pick or blow his way out and clear the building in time. But that would mean abandoning the kids. “Then we've got a problem. The others are trapped at ground zero and can't get out.”   
  
Ianto swore loudly over the link.  _”Cassie, get out, I'll stay and-_ ”   
  
“Ianto, no, get the Hell out of here. I'll get them.”   
  
_”How?”_   
  
Grimacing, John looked at his Vortex Manipulator. Teleporting was not exactly risk free at the best of times. Teleporting in a building with this much leaky 21st century electronic radiation was dangerous in itself. Teleporting with passengers, blind, hoping they ended up in the right place...   
  
Well, that would have to be Plan B.   
  
“I'll find a way, now get out!”   
  
Redoubling his efforts on the electric screen keeping him from the others, John sighed. He was passing up his chance to run and save himself to save two geeks, neither of whom were likely to even give him a gratitude blowjob in return,let alone a fuck. He was definitely going soft. If he got out of here alive it was time for a serious vacation.   
  
**************************************   
  
Ianto hurried clear of the building, watching as the distinct groups of employees from the different companies met up and watched with bored disinterest. It was just another fire drill to them.   
  
He couldn't help wondering how they would react when the building actually blew up...   
  
“Come on, John, don't let me down.”   
  
**********************************   
  
Dave looked up as a loud crack filled the air, sparks showering down the wall from the crawlspace.   
  
“Yes!”   
  
“John?” He watched as a pair of familiar boots slid out from the hole, John's skinny body hanging down the wall before he dropped lightly to the floor.   
  
“Three minutes to spare, okay.” Gathering up as much of their stuff as he could and shoving it at Dave, he gathered the unconscious Lila up into his arms. “Right, we don't have time to climb out before this place blows, so we're gonna have to do something a bit... risky.”   
  
“H-How risky?”   
  
“You don't wanna know,” John muttered, angling Lila so his wrist was free. Putting his other hand over it, he gestured to Dave to do the same. “Okay, hold on tight, I had to use some pretty sketchy data to pick a co-ordinate so this may go horrifically wrong.”   
  
“Wait, what sketchy data?”   
  
“Googlemaps. Hang on tight.” Looking around the room once more, he grinned at Dave. “See you in Hell!”   
  
With a flash, they vanished.   
  
********************************   
  
John swore as he fell, dropping out of the air like a stone, as they materialised a metre above the floor. Smacking his leg against a chair as he fell, he tried to cushion their fall but ended up rolling Lila away from him at the last minute. He could hear Dave's panicked breathing from somewhere nearby and hoped that the kid wasn't impaled on anything.   
  
“John?”   
  
“Dave...”   
  
“We're still in the offices!”   
  
Lifting his head, John looked around and groaned. He knew he hadn't lived a good life, but damn, could the Goddesses just give him a break once in a while? The view from the windows was odd, a few weird bush shapes drifting in the breeze all he could really see. Scrambling to his feet, he hurried over to the window and looked out. “Oh Hell...”   
  
They were on the top floor. Looking round the room, he sighed. It was a corner office at least, but the question was, which corner? Were they on top of the explosives or at the other end? Would the blast kill them outright or would they have a little time?   
  
The world shook around him and a deafening blast rang through the air, dropping him to the floor. His feet were knocked from under him as he felt a whoosh of heat rush through the air, all the windows shattering. It was too hot, too loud, the air too heavy, objects flying everywhere, including him. His skull slammed into the floor and he could feel the room fading.   
  
As he blacked out, John really hoped he would wake up again.   
  
********************************   
  
Cassie watched as Ianto kept urging everyone back from the building, pushing them further away, but was having trouble convincing them to move. The crowd had the bored expression of people who had been sent out on fire drills far too many times. At least Quinn had moved quickly, his handcuffed self sitting with a bored expression in the back of their vehicle. Ianto had considered using the new restraints Mickey had installed on him but figured handcuffs and a deadlock would do for now.   
  
That and the fact that if he escaped he was only going to wind up in the hands of his angry ex partners that much quicker.   
  
Cassie stared at the area around them, watching the building closely and hoping for some sign of John and the others. They had to get out, they just had to-   
  
The boom of the explosion was so loud she reflexively dropped to the ground, her hands rising to protect her head as screams and shouts filled the air around them. When they looked up, the building was alight, one half almost completely gone, but the half not belonging to Enterprise Technologies was still standing. For now anyway. From the looks of things, all the glass had been blown out and there were flames coming from the ground floor windows.   
  
“John,” Ianto breathed beside her, still on his feet and staring at the building in horror. Keying open his mike, he kept his gaze fixed on the building. “Ianto to John, are you there?” The silence filled her ears as she stared up at him, horrorstruck. “Dave, come in please.” Clambering up to her feet, Cassie twisted her sari back into place, carefully covering the scar on her neck again, and wrapped her hand in his. “Lila, are you...” Breaking off, he stared blindly at the building and shook his head. “Base, do you have anything?”   
  
_”We... I've got nothing. There was a blip just before the explosion but now... Their signal's gone dead.”_   
  
“Get... Get the fire brigade here, and...” Ianto stopped, looking round the crowd of people, some looking extremely pale. “Better send an ambulance too. We might have people in shock and, maybe...” He stopped, looking at the building as another section of wall collapsed. Dropping his hand back to his side, he gripped onto Cassie tightly, feeling the warmth of her fingers in his and focusing on nothing but that sensation.   
  
They were gone. John, Lila, and Dave. They were dead.   
  
******************************   
  
Dave was confused, he knew that. He didn't  _think_  he was dead, but he was open to negotiation on that point. He also appeared to be face down on cheap carpet, which wasn't helping, but as far as he could recall didn't feature in the old myths of Hell, and everything in his vision was black or sparkly. He was also pretty sure his head hurt and his back was sore.   
  
No, not sore. Hot. Really hot. Burning hot.   
  
Trying to blink back the stars and not pass out again, Dave rolled onto his back and screamed at the heat. There was fire licking around the now missing doorframe and on several desks where the papers had ignited in their trays. But he wasn't so worried about that now so much as the pain in his back. Rolling from side to side as best he could, he felt it lessen a little and tried to sit up-   
  
When his eyes finally managed to focus again he found himself still lying on the floor and groaned. No fair. In the movies, the hero would be knocked out, wake up, shake his head once or twice and be off. So why was he feeling like he was drunker than after the incident with the bottle of tequila, and unable to see every time he tried to even  _lift_  his head, let alone shake it.   
  
“Oh man...” The groan came from somewhere to his left and he forced his eyes open, turning his head in that direction. He could see smoke drifting across the ceiling and mercifully sucking out through the now missing windows, but that wouldn't handle it for long. Not to mention, he could hear the crackle of the fire itself somewhere nearby that was being fed by all the lovely oxygen.   
  
“John?”   
  
The groan sounded again and he finally made out a dark lump almost buried under a desk. It rolled over, blood across its face, and he sighed in relief as Captain John Hart nodded once, then winced. “Oh, wow. Who slipped me the hypervodkas?”   
  
“The building blew up.”   
  
“Oh,” John replied, dragging himself across the floor slowly. “Where's the girl?”   
  
“I- You had her.”   
  
“Right.” Collapsing flat to the floor, John looked around him, a hoarse cough sounding from his lungs. “Fucking smoke. How can the same shit happen to the same guy twice in the same damn week...” He stopped, then turned back to Dave. “Over here. Gonna need a hand.”   
  
Nodding, it took Dave two attempts to turn over and slither his way across the floor, the carpet scratching pretty much everywhere, cheap fibres sliding through the smallest gaps in his trousers. His t-shirt felt stuck to his back and he really didn't want to look at it, but for now the pain was a constant ache of hot pressure against his muscles. His arms hurt to move but he just focused on dragging himself forward.    
  
John wriggled under a desk and Dave could just about make out the shape of Lila beyond him, her limbs splayed out like a cat stretching. John dragged her none too gently by her t shirt, tugging her out from the desk, and as soon as Dave could grab on to help, they managed to pull her free. She didn't look any more hurt than before, but there was no way to be sure.   
  
“We've... gotta get out of here,” John coughed, his skin pale to Dave's eyes.   
  
“Window.”   
  
“We're on the top floor.”   
  
“We can hang and drop. Better a broken leg than dead.”   
  
Nodding, John looked round for the closest window and wriggled his way closer to Dave. Lining themselves up to each grab one of Lila's arms, they slowly crawled, dragged, and wriggled their way towards the window. The smoke was getting thicker in the room, roiling above their heads, and the floor felt warm, but the draught from the window was enough to help them breathe. For now anyway.   
  
Finally, they reached the edge of the room and Dave forced himself to sit up, swaying like a sailor until he managed to grab reflexively onto the window frame. Swearing, he loosened his fingers as best he could and looked at the trickle of blood coming from them from the broken glass. This hurt. Everything hurt and if he ever got out of here alive, he swore he was never leaving his little room ever again. Fuck this hero stuff, he was a nerd and proud.   
  
Blinking, he could make out the vague shapes of people milling around on the grass at the other end of the plot, bunched up against the fences and staring blankly as the building burned.    
  
Including one in what looked like a very colourful, ornate long dress.   
  
Opening his microphone, he prayed to God it still worked and opened the channel.   
  
**************************************** *********   
  
Jimmy Chen was exhausted, slumped on the desk with his head in his hands and too tired to even look up any more. He could hear the others still in the office bustling around outside, going in and out of the medical bay to check on Noddy or co-ordinating with UNIT and the local emergency services. They didn't yet know what had gone wrong.    
  
It wasn't over yet, there was still so much cleaning up to do, but the warehouse team were safe and heading home, the hospital teams were sorting through the staff, picking out the innocent from the complicit, everyone who was supposed to have been in real danger was safe. But the team who were supposed to just be in and out, no problem, were dead.   
  
It didn't seem real. Dave had called him in to work just a few hours ago. How could this be happening? They were supposed to be the good guys, they were supposed to win, they were supposed-   
  
He looked up at a faint crackling, the hiss of static coming from the screen and ran his eyes over the status updates. Johnson's team were in transit, UNIT sweeping in to tidy up the mess and secure the warehouses. Lois' team were all safe at the hospital. Ianto was silent, still at the warehouse, so where-   
  
The line flashed up again, another burst of static, but for a second a name flashed on the screen. Dave.   
  
“Dave?!” Jimmy yelped and jumped up from the table, running over to the screen. The signal was very weak, flickering so quickly the system was having trouble receiving it, but there was a brief flash, just enough to confirm that it was real. The system couldn't transcribe the words, the sounds too faint and with far too much intereference for it to make out, but he rested his head against the speaker and turned it up high anyway. The hiss was so loud, like the ocean roaring in his head, but he closed his eyes and listened only able to make out a couple of words.   
  
“Ace..........The.... We... Jump......Top...... Li-” The signal dropped again and Jimmy stood back, breathing hard.   
  
“Base to Ianto! Dave's alive! I can't make out his message but he said something about jump and top. I think they're still in the building!”   
  
_“On our way!”_   
  
Staying pressed up close to the screen, Jimmy reopened the signal to the others. “Dave, I don't know if you can hear me, but we're on the way. We're coming.”   
  
****************************************   
  
Dave shook his head and looked down at his team again, Lila collapsed on the floor and John coughing without stopping, his face going redder as he tried to get enough air. “I don't think they heard me, we're gonna have to jump alone.”   
  
John nodded, but carried on coughing, his breath gasping horribly in the thin air. “D-” Shaking his head again, he slipped lower down the wall. His lungs were still weak from the collapse of the Hub and now the smoke was exacerbating his condition.    
  
Taking a deep breath of clean air, Dave grabbed a stapler off a nearby desk and swiped it across the windowframe, trying to knock out as much glass as possible, then looked out at the drop below. Top floor. Third storey. Maybe a six metre drop down onto some bushes and paving slabs. If they could get through the flames licking out of the bottom floor window first. Easy.   
  
If he was Spiderman.   
  
Swallowing hard, Dave looked behind him at the fire creeping ever closer, a wall of heat and light advancing along the corridor towards them. It wasn't like they had any choice.    
  
Glancing out the window again, he grinned as he spotted a couple of figures running across the car park towards them. Ianto and Cassie.   
  
“Guys, cavalry's coming-” Glancing down, he realised it had gone quiet and saw John's face start to go slack, his eyes closing as he ran out of air. “Oh no you don't.” Slipping an arm around John, he tried to haul him up to the window. It took him four attempts before he managed to drape John's body over the frame, half in and half out. It seemed to revive him a little, and he grabbed John's arm and dragged him to stand.   
  
“Hold on to me and climb out!”   
  
Groggily, John wrapped his arms around Dave's shoulders and clasped them behind his neck before swinging one leg out of the window. Perching on the sill, he held on tight as the other leg hung out, then waited until Dave had sorted his grip before grinning tiredly.   
  
“You sure you can handle me?”   
  
“Trust me, I've wanted to throw you out a window ever since we met, this is a dream come true. Now hang on tight!”   
  
Pushing John out of the window, Dave groaned at the pull against his neck, his inflamed back stinging like crazy and screaming at him to let go. He held on for as long as he could as John shifted one hand then the other to the sill, dropping flat against the building for a few seconds before, with one last grin, he pushed back and fell away.   
  
He dropped so fast it made Dave jump, but John had managed to miss the paving stones and landed on the grass instead, his body rolling like some sort of paratrooper before coming to a rest just as Ianto appeared.    
  
Not waiting, Dave headed for Lila and quickly pulled off his belt. Wrapping it around her wrists and securing it as best he could, he dragged her up to her feet and hauled her over to the frame. It was a lot harder to manoeuvre her dead weight, especially with his back stinging non stop now. He could  _feel_  the fire getting closer, the tingles of his sensitive skin warning him of the growing heat behind him, but he didn't dare look.    
  
Wrapping the other end of the belt around his wrist and hand to brace himself, he lowered her out the window, holding onto the belt and one bent knee until finally dropping her flat against the building and taking all her weight on the belt. It hurt like hell, his arm threatening to come out of its socket, but there was Ianto and Cassie below, beckoning to him to let go. Letting the belt slip free of his wrist, the friction burning his palm, he lowered her down a couple more precious inches then let go.    
  
He couldn't get back up, half sprawled over the frame, the breath knocked out of him, his energy spent, and just lay there for a few moments, watching them carry Lila to safety. They were out. Just him now.   
  
Hauling his body over the frame, he clung on as tight as he could to the windowsill and dropped.   
  
One hand gave up straight away, swinging him down to slam against the wall, but he managed to grip on a few seconds longer. Willing his body to go limp (like that was ever going to happen) he listened to Ianto yelling to let go.   
  
And did.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The flesh endures the storms of the present alone, the mind those of the past and future as well as the present.”  
> Epicurus

The Land Rover stank.  
  
Between the smell of Tim's burnt trousers, Jack's general barbecue odour and sickly burnt hair tinge, the slight wisps of smoke still emerging from the UV box, the antiseptic smell of Tom's kit as he patched up Tim, the strong whiff of oil and mechanics from the machine stuffed into the boot, and the general scent of men and sweat, it was hard to say what, or who, smelt the worst.  
  
Big's money was on Tim.  
  
The kid was half asleep, his mouth wide as he leaned back against the door in the end seat, his burnt and bashed legs stretched out as much as they could be across Tom and Big's laps. Tom was in the middle, patching up the burns and scratches as best he could on the move. Big took up the other end, gazing out the window almost sullenly, wishing Hugh would put his foot down. He wanted to go faster, to be there already, to see his brother. He had come way too close to never seeing him again, to leaving him all alone-  
  
Growling, Big Ears slapped the side of Tim's ankle, making the kid jump and stir.  
  
“What the fuck was that for?” Tim pouted, wincing as Tom shot Big a half amused look.  
  
“You nearly got us both killed! Next time I tell you to do something, you do it, okay?”   
  
“Yes sir, geez,” Tim winced again and shifted in his seat. “Anyone ever tell you you'd make a great dom?”  
  
“Not as good as Ianto,” Jack called back from the front, making them all just stare at him. With an embarrassed grin, Jack twisted back to look at them. “Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment. Forget I said that.”  
  
“That was not an image I needed,” Tim admitted, fidgeting against the uncomfortable door. “Just like you coming across that roof like some sort of avenging demon. You scared the shit out of me dude.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry about that-”  
  
Jack broke off as Big clipped him round the top of the head, before smacking Jack over and over everywhere he would reach. “What the Hell? What did I do?”  
  
“You're right Tim, it's not your fault we were nearly killed,” Big said between blows, glaring at Jack. “It's this, arrogant, egotistical, self centred- Hugh, pull over, I wanna kill him quickly.”  
  
“We're on a motorway, can you hold it until we reach the services?” Hugh called back, deadpan.  
  
“Why can't you just obey orders, hey?” Big Ears shouted, trying to still reach Jack but unable to as he ducked forwards, laughing, his hands held over his head to ward Big off. “You and your fucking rift manipulator, then getting yourself killed, I could've used a hand getting out of there y'know, but oh no, you had to play Joan of Arc-”  
  
“Technically she was burnt at the stake, not electrocuted,” Hugh added.  
  
“And get yourself all crispy! That bloody machine weighs a ton!”  
  
Tim screamed as a sharp jolt from Big twisted his legs and suddenly Tom moved, his arm lashing out to throw Big back against the seat with surprising strength, pinning him in place.  
  
“That's enough! You're alive, Tim's alive, and if you would sit still and let me do my job in a lot less pain. We all know Jack's an arse-”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“But save it for later.” With a small twist to his lip, Tom stared at Jack. “Or let Johnson do it. She was muttering some quite... innovative punishments for him earlier.”  
  
“I'll bet,” Hugh said with a grin. “Let's see, she's already shot you, blown you up, buried you alive, and that was when she didn't really feel anything about you.” Chuckling, Hugh tapped the steering wheel. “Just think what she'll do to you now you've pissed her off.”  
  
“She's not the one I'm worried about...”  
  
  
**************************************  
  
Rhys wasn't pacing.  
  
He was soothing Harri, walking up and down with her as she settled, babies like that. The fact that she had fallen asleep five minutes ago and he was still worrying a groove into the carpet was just him being thorough. It had nothing to do with him glaring at the phone, willing it to start vibrating its way across the table and let him know Gwen was alright.  
  
He wasn't pacing.  
  
“Dammit.”  
  
Grabbing the phone and sticking it into his pocket, he finally headed upstairs, his feet finding their way to the nursery with only minimal input from his distracted mind. As he put Angharad down for her nap, he found it hard to look at her, his own worry filling his mind and picturing him trying to raise her alone, watching her grow up without a mother, trying to explain why she didn't have one when all the other kids did-  
  
Rhys jumped as his pocket vibrated and pulled back from the cot, grabbing the phone and backing out of the room as quickly, and quietly, as he could.   
  
“Hello?”  
  
 _”Hello sweetheart, it's all fine here, mission accomplished! I'm going to stick around and help with the clear up, make sure Andy has a familiar face and all that, but I'll be home in time for Harri's bath, okay?”_  
  
He couldn't speak, just let himself collapse back against the wall, the tension leaving him in such a rush his muscles felt as though they were turning to jelly. Grinning like an idiot, he found himself nodding.  
  
 _”Rhys?”_  
  
“Sorry! Yes, yes, that's great, I'll see you at bath time.”  
  
 _”How is she? Did you manage to get her to calm down okay?”_  
  
“Good as gold, fed and having a nap, she's being an absolute angel.”  
  
 _”She gets that from her dad,”_  Gwen purred.  _”Rhys, I... Thank you. I'd better get back. Love you.”_  
  
“Love you more.”  
  
 _”Not right now you don't,”_  a sigh came over the line and he wanted to keep talking, to just bring her home right now and hear all about it, help her get it out of her system and remind her just why she had chosen to do this.  _”See you soon.”_  
  
“I'll be waiting.” As the call ended, Rhys dropped down to sit against the wall, unable to wipe the grin off his face. She was okay. She was coming home again. Right now he didn't let himself think of next time or when the more hideous conversation about her going back to Torchwood would come up. All that mattered was that Gwen was coming home to them.  
  
The rest, he would tackle when it came.  
  
***************************************  
  
Martha was terrified. She didn't let it show, just carried on with her work as best she could, checking on Sammy and making arrangements to take him and the soldiers to the hospital as soon as they got back. She fussed over him as he awoke, checked on Jimmy Chen who was now co-ordinating the clean up from a makeshift nest of pillows on the conference room floor (his bucket by his side), and had even made sure Debs got a bathroom break and something to eat and drink. She couldn't stop moving.  
  
And Tish knew why.  
  
“Calm down,” Tish muttered from the corner of the medical room, flicking through the magazines Sarah had been reading.  
  
“What?” Martha jumped, waving her arm around airily as Sammy twisted his head to watch the exchange with blurry eyes. “I'm fine!”  
  
“You're jittery and it's giving me a headache. Tom's fine.”  
  
“I wasn't- I know Tom's fine, they said so, I don't know what you're on about-”  
  
“Oh for goodness sake, just admit it, you were worried about him.”  
  
“I'm allowed to be worried about him,” Martha snapped, returning her attention to Sammy. “Our marriage may be on the rocks but he's still my husband, I still love him.”  
  
“Yes, he is,” Tish said, looking up from her magazine. “And he still loves you, you know.”  
  
“I don't know why,” Martha whispered back. “I... I just want to make sure he's okay.”  
  
“He will be-” Tish broke off at the sound of the main office door opening, a chorus of voices calling out and cheerfully announcing their presence. “Looks like now's your chance.”  
  
Martha froze, staring at the door, her hands brushing over her doctor's coat. “I...”  
  
“Go for it doc,” Sammy said sleepily, shifting on the couch. “I need someone to outdo Big-”  
  
Martha laughed as Big Ears burst into the room, a blur of black and arms as he latched onto his brother, hugging him tight and the pair of them laughing. “Air, bro, air, I'm sick!” Sammy tried to shout, but he was laughing so much she wasn't worried.  
  
“Don't you ever do that to me again, y'hear me?” Big yelled back, still hugging him tight. “I mean it, you little prick, don't do that!”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Sammy agreed, pushing his brother back at last. “On one condition.”  
  
“Anything.”  
  
Looking past his brother, Sammy glanced at Tish. “Can we borrow that magazine? Sarah said something about a hot picture of David Beckham.”  
  
“That's the condition?” Big exclaimed, grabbing the magazine from a laughing Tish and holding it up. “You want to see David Beckham.”  
  
“Yep. And I want you to finish the article.” Settling down onto the couch, Sammy shrugged. “Wanna know how the story ends.”  
  
“It's a trashy celeb magazine, not War and Peace or Harry Potter.”  
  
“Don't care,” Sammy said, patting the couch. “Read to me.”  
  
Sighing, Big dragged himself up onto the examination couch beside his brother, and began to read.  
  
**********************************  
  
Tom hung back from the group, watching the soldiers disperse, handing over weapons and sorting out reports whilst dragging Tim off for a quick debriefing before he vanished off to the hospital. The rift manipulator was being carried around like some spoil of war in a victory parade before they set off to seal it into a quarantine room on the floor below. Jack had headed straight to the conference room, Johnson looking daggers after him before slipping into the armoury. It seemed like one moment the room was full, noisy and cheerful, and the next it was empty.  
  
Except for Martha.  
  
He was surprised to see her there, but then spotted Tish looking out from behind a door, watching them both with a grin on her face that made him embarrassed. Of course she had a hand in this, the girl was a hopeless romantic.  
  
Was it hopeless though?  
  
Martha looked drained, her face paler than usual, but steady as she walked slowly across the room to him. He knew he looked a mess, his stubble edging from designer into just messy and his clothes a state from writhing around on a filthy warehouse floor. He felt a mess too, his mind whirring, but there was something more than that. He felt stronger somehow, he felt invigorated and refreshed, the challenge of the past day hitting something deep inside him and making it soar, he felt-  
  
No, he knew. He knew now why she hadn't been able to give it up. He understood. He had touched something of the other Tom, the one she had met first, and he knew now that there really wasn't any great difference between them, he wasn't better or stronger than Tom. They were both capable of the same things. They were both willing to do whatever it took to protect others.  
  
And they both loved Martha, so very much.  
  
Holding out his arms, he walked to meet her, falling into an embrace with ease, a kiss following with easy ferocity, neither of them sure who had initiated it but just going with it without thought.  
  
It wasn't going to be easy. He needed to learn to trust her again, but more than that, he wanted to discover more about this side of himself, about her world, and he wasn't sure if he could do that properly by her side. He was changing, he could feel it, but would she still want him if he did?  
  
But right now all he wanted was her, back in his arms, even if only for one last night. The rest, they would have to work out later.  
  
At least now though he felt some hope that there would be a later for them after all.  
  
  
************************************  
  
Ianto was so far beyond exhausted it wasn't even funny. It was fast approaching midnight and he had barely slept in at least 48 hours. He wasn't entirely convinced he hadn't missed a day along the way somewhere. Every time he closed his eyes he thought of something else that needed doing, some detail of clean up that should be dealt with-  
  
But that was what teams were for.  
  
Grace and Tom had proved a godsend, working with Martha and UNIT to weed out the few 'rotten apples' at the hospital and get the more urgent services back up and running again in record time. Minus a few patients who were being returned home at last, and with the addition of a few others.   
  
Lila, Dave, Tim, John and Noddy were all there undergoing treatment for various knocks, burns and broken bones, and staying under observation. The soldiers had been briefly checked over, then allowed to just go home and rest, with strict orders to return in the morning or call if they felt any side effects. It would take a while to sort the hospital situation out, but the crisis there was over.  
  
The creature was dead, what was left of its remains safely interred in the office whilst they decided what to do with them.  
  
Quinn had been handed over to UNIT for safekeeping and was being transferred to a safehouse overnight. The interrogation would begin as soon as he was secure. Deborah had gone too, for proper debriefing and to be sure they had got everything they could out of her before keeping their end of the bargain.  
  
Quinn's offices were destroyed, the site well and truly ruined. UNIT had sent a salvage team in, but Ianto didn't expect them to find much. The data Lila had managed to transmit out on the other hand, would hopefully help them track down the rest of Quinn's empire and contacts and tidy the whole operation up.  
  
Lois and Gwen had been handling the cleanup operation for him, the two women working together well to deal with the local emergency services and coming up with a good cover story for all the days events.  
  
Jimmy Chen, and his bucket, were safely back in bed and he was at least puking a more normal colour now. Martha reckoned he would be fine in another 24 hours or so.  
  
As for Jack's little adventure and side trip, Ianto had been fully briefed on it by Johnson. Her curt manner had included a few choice phrases he didn't normally hear from her and he suspected Jack would be given all manner of nasty drill activities for at least the next year to make him suffer for it.  
  
When he wasn't working on the rift manipulator that was.   
  
Of course, Jack didn't know about either of these things yet, having dropped the manipulator off at the office then scurrying out on the pretence of going to the hospital with the others. He hadn't been seen since, and Ianto knew Jack was avoiding him. Which was very wise; he was furious with him, and terrified for the risk he had taken, the way he had put the team in danger, running off, disobeying orders, getting himself killed, nearly getting Tim killed-  
  
That fact that Ianto had to admit he knew exactly why it had been done was bad enough.  
  
Knowing that, in Jack's place, he probably would have made the same call was worst of all. Being angry with Jack was always much more satisfying when he was actually in the wrong.  
  
Ianto opened his eyes, feeling himself start to drift off, and shook his head. The girls had definitely been right to put him in a taxi. Staring blearily at the road, he realised the reason he had jerked awake was that he was being spoken to. Catching up, Ianto directed the driver to the right building and nodded gratefully before slipping out. The company taxi account was also a Very Good Thing he had to thank Lois for.  
  
The climb up the stairs had rarely felt so long, and Ianto almost tripped over the last few steps before fumbling the key into the lock and slipping into his flat. Leaning back against the door, exhaustion written all over his face, he closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. Home.  
  
The breath in was not what he was expecting though as a familiar smell tickled its way up into his brain. Bacon?  
  
Stumbling through the flat, Ianto burst into the kitchen, wondering who on Earth would break into his place to cook bacon.  
  
Of course, the answer was so obvious he really knew how tired he was when the sight of Captain Jack Harkness standing at his hob surprised him.  
  
“Jack.”  
  
“Hey. I figured this was probably as close to an emergency as I was going to get, so...” Pointing with a spatula to the chairs around the small kitchen table, Jack shook the frying pan a little. “Bacon. Great for the mind, amazing on the tongue, banned in 39 states in the US by 2027, creating the great bacon barons of 2028, and pretty much all you can get from your corner shop at ten fifty five at night. Plus baps of course.”  
  
Ianto flopped into a chair, dropping his coat and jacket onto the empty one beside him, and stared at the plate. A freshly buttered bap, flour still drifting from it to cover the plate, sat waiting whilst ketchup, mustard, and brown sauce were lined up on the table. A pot of tea, complete with the hideous tea cosy his nan had had when he was a kid, steamed gently, and the scent of cooking and caffeine sent a faint pulse of life back into his tired body.  
  
“How...”  
  
“Gwen called when you were leaving. She, uh, pretty much tore into me, called me a coward for avoiding you, then she-” Ianto held up his hand and shook his head.  
  
“No.”  
  
“No what?” Jack spun round and slipped three sizzling rashers of bacon into Ianto's bun before adding the rest to his own, opposite him.  
  
“I don't want to talk about it.”  
  
Jack hesitated, then put the pan back on one of the cooler spots on the hob and turned it off, sliding into place opposite Ianto and busying himself pouring the tea. Ianto concentrated on adding ketchup to his bap and trying to fold the bacon to fit inside it. Giving up, he lifted it up to his mouth and nibbled the worst of the overhanging bits off, then sunk his teeth into the whole thing. He could feel flour dusting his lip, no doubt catching in his beard and making a right mess, and a trickle of grease running down his finger, but he didn't care. He was beyond caring right now.   
  
Tomorrow he would worry again, and run the team, and sort out the mess, and deal with Jack's attitude and how the Hell he was going to work all this out. Right now though, his world was all focused on comfort.  
  
The bap didn't last long, nor the tea, but when he put his mug down, Ianto felt a pain he hadn't even noticed he'd had receding from his body. His hunger abated, at least enough to sleep, he couldn't fight back a yawn and caught Jack smiling.  
  
“Look, Ianto, about today, I-”  
  
Shaking his head again, Ianto pushed back from the table, rising unsteadily to his feet. He had kicked off his shoes and removed his waistcoat and tie whilst eating and now undid his cufflinks, his sleeves hanging down his arms like a kid trying on his new school shirt, complete with 'room to grow' in it.  
  
“Jack, you know what? I've had a hell of a week. I'm tired. Too tired to think about work, and Torchwood, and everything connected to it right now. I'm too tired to even be pissed at you about today, and that's saying something after the stunt you pulled. I'm too tired to think of anything but a hot shower to get this smoke smell out of my hair, especially my beard, you have no idea how annoying a smoky beard is, then sleep. Lots of sleep.”  
  
Nodding to himself, Ianto stumbled back out of the kitchen, heading towards the bathroom.  
  
“Got it,” Jack said after him, hurrying to catch up and grabbing his coat from where it was abandoned over the sofa. “I'll leave you to it-”  
  
“No,” Ianto slurred, his voice too tired to even manage to get the words out without yawning around them. “If you go, then who's gonna make sure I don't just pass out in the shower and drown?”  
  
“I, uh...” Jack hesitated, processing the statement then smiled. “Oh.”  
  
Smiling back, Ianto wrapped his arm around Jack, more for support than anything else, and leaned against him. “Oh.” Leaning up to kiss him, Ianto knew he was far from proficient, too sleepy and too relaxed for anything satisfactory, and certainly in no fit state to make good on any promises the kiss might want to make, but as Jack wrapped around him in return, he knew that, sometimes, it was the thought that counted.  
  
****************************************  
  
Lila awoke slowly, looking round in confusion at her surroundings. She couldn't see anything but white. The last thing she could remember was being in the server vault with Dave. Was this heaven?  
  
There was a mask over her face though, and that wasn't something her sister had ever mentioned seeing in the bible. Listening to the sounds around her, she could hear voices, low and hushed, like the wind through trees and wasn't sure, but the odd words she was catching definitely didn't sound like the sort of things angels would say.  
  
“...so then I grabbed him by the wrist, threw him over my back and said, 'well, you wanted to try it Neanderthal style!'”  
  
The laughter rose in volume, raucous, the sort of laughter she usually heard in pubs and clubs (usually shortly before being approached by a drunken man looking for a good time.) Forcing her eyes open properly, she tilted her head towards the sounds.  
  
She was in some kind of ward, beds aligned neatly in rows, but a couple of spaces down from her, she could make out some familiar faces standing around a figure tucked up in the bed. Or, at least, she recognised a couple of very familiar fashion statements; one in black, the other in a bright red jacket that now had some kind of white stripe across it.  
  
“Did we win?”  
  
At the sound of her voice they turned, John smiling as he saw her stirring. “Hey, look who finally decided to join the party! About bloody time girlie, we were just getting to the good bits. You ever heard of the triple breasted women of Tantalus Prime?”  
  
Shaking his head, Tim grabbed a pair of crutches and hobbled his way around the beds to come closer to her. “Save me, he's been talking for hours already. How're you feeling?”  
  
Trying to find the words, Lila shifted in the bed then winced, pulling the mask off her mouth. “Like someone broke my wrists, bashed all my fingers with a hammer, then went to work on my back, and finally decided to make me swallow the hammer into my lungs. What happened to me?”  
  
“Yeah, sounds about right,” John said, swaggering over to her with slightly less swagger than usual, his arm in a sling across his body. “That would be your basic electrocution, smoke inhalation, and being lowered out a third storey window and dropped to the ground bit. Good fun.” Reaching past her head, he grabbed the call button from the wall and pressed it.  
  
“I... Do I even want to know?”  
  
“Probably not,” John admitted, perching on the edge of her bed and suppressing a wince. “Suffice to say, if it wasn't for Dave, we'd both be toast about now.”  
  
“Dave.”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“ _Dave_  saved me?”  
  
“Yeah, I know, depressing ain't it? 'Course, if I hadn't broken through dozens of layers of technology and jumped you both out of that vault you would have been confetti rather than toast-”  
  
“Dave. Saved. Me.” Groaning, she leaned back into the pillows. “Oh I am never gonna hear the end of this. Where is the little git?”  
  
“Down there,” Tim pointed at the occupied bed and she realised that actually Dave was lying face down on the bed. “He'd get up and say hi, but he busted a leg pretty badly and burnt his back so he's on the really good stuff and a bit of bed rest.”  
  
A muffled hi was the only sign of life he gave. “Ouch.”  
  
“He'll be fine, but he's high as a kite at the moment. Keeps going on about becoming a butterfly and how you're gonna have to give him your Boba Fett action figure as his bounty for saving your life. And he called you fair maiden.”  
  
“Fair maiden?” She snorted, then instantly regretted it as sandpaper formed along all her airways at once, making her cough. “Oh fuck.”  
  
“Good, the last of you is awake! I can hopefully go home again sometime soon.” Lila blinked as Dr Stephens came swooping in, chivvying the men aside and focusing on her patient. “Jonathan, get me some fresh water from the nurses' station please.”  
  
With a slightly surprised smile, John tossed off a sloppy salute and backed away, bowing. “Yes Ma'am.”  
  
As he left, Tim grinned and jumped up onto the bed alongside Lila's as Grace manoeuvred Lila to sit up and lean forward so she could listen to her chest.   
  
“Careful Doc,” Tim sniggered, “I think John likes a woman with attitude.”  
  
“I have been dealing with arrogant male surgeons with God complexes most of my life, young man, do you really think a little rogue like 'Captain' Hart would phase me?”  
  
Raising his eyebrows, Tim caught Lila's eye and made her laugh, which of course set her off coughing again and ruining the test. “Sorry.”  
  
Shaking her head, Grace turned round as John returned with the water and handed it to Lila. “Sip this. Slowly.” Looking at Tim, she eyed him critically. “Timothy, how is the leg this morning?”  
  
“Good, I mean sore, but I can move it a bit more, thank you Ma'am,” he replied genuinely, with no trace of John's sarcasm at the title. “That stuff Martha gave me really helped.”  
  
“Yes, I shall be chasing her for a commercial release date, and the recipe,” Grace muttered. “No sense in keeping all the good stuff just for the military.”  
  
“What happened to you?” Lila whispered, her voice strained but sounding less raw.  
  
“Uh,” Tim grinned, “your basic climb for my life, dragged across a highwire, get scared absolutely witless by undead Captains coming to get me, get dropped off an exploding building, bust my kneecap, have my leg catch fire, be hauled up by big strong soldier boys, and pretty much end up battered, bruised, and burnt deal.”  
  
Shaking her head slightly, Lila looked around them. “If this is what happened to our two teams, I hate to think what everyone looks like.”  
  
“They're all fine actually,” Grace said, checking Lila's chart. “All the soldiers who ended up in comas have recovered, there are some side effects for young Samuel, a few headaches and lasting issues for a couple of the others, but nothing that shouldn't ease with time. Captain Hart wrenched his bad shoulder again, and has a bit of a nasty cough-”  
  
“Always up for a sponge bath if you're offering, doc.”  
  
“-and the victims of that creature have mostly recovered. Again, there are a few nasty side effects, phobias, headaches, insomnia and so on, but they have been put under the care of their local GPs again, with additional help from UNIT's psychiatric teams. All in all, not too bad, considering.”  
  
“Considering?”  
  
The silence around her made Lila stare. “What? What happened?”  
  
“Quinn got away,” John snarled. “UNIT had him in custody but somehow he escaped. From the looks of things he didn't go willingly either. He was more scared of his bosses than us.”  
  
“V.S.” Lila whispered.   
  
“What?”  
  
“Something I saw in the files. Their biggest client, someone codenamed VS. I was trying to trace him...” Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and coughed again, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Stupid lungs.”  
  
Pushing the mask back over her face, Grace shooed the others away. “Enough! Back to your own beds or go keep David company so I can finish my examination!”  
  
With a swish of the dividing curtains, Lila was cut off from the others and settled back into the bed, preparing to be prodded and poked. The doctor was right of course, there would be time to catch up later.  
  
Which would give her time to come up with a suitable thank you for Dave; one that did not involve any of her limited edition action figures...  
  
********************************  
  
Cassie smiled as her cases rolled down the conveyor belt away from her, her tickets in her hands as she stepped back from the check in and back towards Ianto. “All checked in. You know, you really didn't have to see me off.”  
  
“I just wanted to be really sure you left,” Ianto deadpanned, earning himself a small punch to his arm. “Least I could do after all this.”  
  
“Well yes, that's true, but a chauffeured stretch limo would have been just as nice as you driving me to the airport.”  
  
“And miss the three hours of arguments over how fast I drive? Never.”  
  
Laughing, Cassie looked over her shoulder at the security lines. “I should go through soon I guess. Although hopefully I won't get quite as thorough a pat down at this end as I will when I get back.”  
  
“Boyfriend?”  
  
“TSA.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“If you get a pretty agent it's almost enjoyable, in its own way.”   
  
Laughing, Ianto smiled again. “I don't suppose you have time for one more coffee?”  
  
“Next time, I promise. I just really want to go home-” She stopped and looked down, suddenly embarrassed. “I left there saying I was coming home for a bit, and now this is the visit and that's home. When did that happen?” Sighing, she reached out and pulled him into a hug. “It's been good to see you again, even considering-”  
  
“The danger, the spying, the getting to know my ex is a sadist-”  
  
“He's not,” she said quietly, pulling back to look at him seriously again. “He will do whatever you need him to do to make this easier, but he isn't that any more and I hope you know that.”  
  
“I know,” Ianto said softly, “he's really, really not a sadist.”  
  
“That too.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Never mind,” she laughed, hugging him tight again. “Look, you're a young lad from Wales, he's a thousand plus immortal from the future and outer space, nobody's perfect. Just take care of yourself, okay? But don't be so careful you miss out, promise?”  
  
“Only if you do the same.”  
  
Letting go at last, she stepped back and straightened her outfit, adjusting the scarf around her neck before suddenly pulling it away and folding it up in her hands. Standing up straight, she lifted her chin to look at him and smiled. “You know what? It's a deal.”  
  
“It's a deal,” he echoed, leaning in to kiss her cheek softly, his beard tickling her slightly. “Bye for now, Cassie.”  
  
“I'll be seeing you Jones. Oh and if you're ever working late and fancy a chat, call me, you've got my number and you know the time difference. There's no big Torchwood edict saying we can't keep in touch any more, now is there?”  
  
“Nope, nothing at all.”  
  
“Except your jealous boyfriend.” Ianto ducked his head, a smile playing at his lips. “Enjoy it.” Leaning up, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I know I would.” Shifting her hand bag on her shoulder, she pulled her boarding pass and passport out again. “Right, I really should get going. Until next time, Ianto.”  
  
“Next time, Cassie.”  
  
Grinning, she strode off into the airport, her smart suit blending her in with the business travellers, but something about her making her stand out none the less. And this time, it wasn't her scars.  
  
**************************************** ****  
  
Michael Taylor looked up from the examination couch in the Torchwood offices, his eyes flicking to the door as it opened. He tried not to smile as a long fringe of dark hair poked around the door, almost hiding the pale face underneath it.  
  
“Oh, hey doc,” Tim said casually, “didn't realise you still had company.”  
  
From the slight twist to Dr Jones' mouth as she finished drawing his blood, Michael guessed she was as unconvinced as he was about that.  
  
“Which is why you usually knock before entering,” she jokingly admonished as she pressed a tube of padding against Michael's arm. Taping it in place, she stood up, snapping the gloves off her hands and tossing them into the biohazard bin.   
  
“Sorry, doc.”  
  
“As it happens, we were just finishing.” Grabbing the vials of blood, she checked the labels on them, then glanced between her patient and Tim again. “Were you after me or Mr Taylor?”  
  
“Uh...” Michael tried not to smile at the faint flush that swept over Tim's pale cheeks. “I kinda need to talk to Mich- Uh, Mr Taylor, if that's okay?”  
  
“Of course,” Martha replied, sweeping the vials into a plastic bag and sealing it. “I should get these to the technicians anyway. We want to try and find out what it was about you that made you so resistant to the creature.” Walking to the door, she grinned at Tim as she drew close. “I'll be back in ten minutes. And don't worry, unlike you I  _do_  know how to knock.”  
  
If Michael had thought Tim was blushing before, the red that swept over his face now was like an explosion, Tim's hand rising to rub against his neck nervously as he drew closer. Sitting up properly on the couch, Michael busied himself sorting out his sleeve and rubbing around his needle marks, giving Tim time to adjust.  
  
“So,” Tim began, then stopped, pulling out a chair from the desk in the corner and turning it around to straddle it, bringing his head about level with Michael's crotch. He then seemed to think better of this, and casually stood up again, resting his knee on the chair and awkwardly half crouching on it instead. He then promptly winced and hastily pulled his leg up, rubbing it, before pushing the chair away and standing upright. “Um, so.”  
  
“So,” Michael repeated, when it didn't seem like more was forthcoming. “You wanted to see me.”  
  
“Yeah, uh, there's something I gotta ask you, it's a work thing-” Michael tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. “-but, uh, I wanted to check how you are first. I mean, are you okay?”  
  
“Still afraid of the dark, and now not too keen on needles, but yeah, I'm okay.”  
  
“Good, good, that's good, 'cause I just wanted to-” Tim hesitated, then shook his head. “Aww fuck it, if you go with what I have to suggest, you won't remember this anyway, so here goes.” Visibly swallowing hard, Tim looked at Michael seriously, his fingers twitching against his thighs nervously. “Are you gay?”  
  
Laughing, Michael tilted his head sideways. “What gave you that idea?”  
  
“Oh, God,” Tim paled, “you're not, I just, wow, sorry man, I just thought I felt this- Y'know, forget I spoke, I'll just go out the door and come back in again and we can-”  
  
As Tim turned to leave, Michael reached out and grabbed his arm, fingers wrapping tightly around the dark sleeves. “I didn't say I wasn't.”  
  
“Oh.” Tim hesitated, then his face lit up as he realised what he had just heard. “Oh! So you are...”  
  
“If we're talking labels, I guess bi, but yeah, I'm into guys.”  
  
Tim smiled shyly and nodded, looking down at Michael's fingers around his wrist. “So, uh, when you say guys, are we talking big and butch and a six pack you could bounce a dime off or-”  
  
“Skinny,” Michael said slowly, pulling Tim's arm to make him step closer. “Dark haired, with a touch of the goth about them, and...” dragging Tim's wrist up to his chest, Michael pushed the sleeve back to reveal the skull and crossbones on his wrist and a hint of the patterns that extended up his arms. “Tattooed.”  
  
Swallowing hard again, Tim glanced nervously back at the door as Michael traced his thumb softly over the skull. “Uh, so, I don't do this very often, but I was wondering if you'd, um, like to-”  
  
“I'd love to.”  
  
Tim grinned, suddenly relaxing. “I didn't even tell you what I was offering yet.”  
  
Shrugging, Michael tugged him closer, not quite pressing against him, but leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Lois already offered to buy us dinner, and promised you would put out, so I'm pretty much expecting at least a drink.”  
  
“She-” Tim looked back at the door again, aghast. “She said- I-”  
  
Laughing, Michael lifted Tim's hand to his mouth and kissed the skull softly, before pressing his hands around Tim's. “I would much rather just see how we feel and take it from there though. If I wanted a sure thing, I'd just go to a club.”  
  
“Cool, I mean,” Tim blushed again and grinned, his face changing into something younger, almost childlike as he looked as his hand trapped between Michael's. “I think we should make Lois pay for dinner though.”  
  
“Deal. So,” Michael finished, finally letting go of Tim's hand and watching as it instantly rose to push his hair back from his face before nervously putting his hands on his hips. “Was there really something work related you wanted to ask?”  
  
“Huh? Oh!” Tim looked worried and nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “It's, uh, the last couple of days have been pretty traumatic for you, not to mention you know stuff about us that's kinda-”  
  
“Secret?”  
  
“Well, yeah, but y'see, we got these pills, they can wipe your memory. We can give you one and, uh, you won't remember the attack. Hopefully, that will cure your fear of the dark, 'cause you wouldn't even remember what happened.”  
  
“That's great!” Michael's face fell as he thought it through. “But, we met after that. If I take the pill-”  
  
“You would forget me,” Tim said slowly. “I'd still know you and, uh, if you weren't lying about your type, I could find you but-”  
  
“I'd have forgotten we ever met.” It was Michael's turn to swallow hard, looking round the small room and thinking of everything he had found out. Aliens existed, Torchwood was real, and Tim... “Are you certain it would cure the phobia?”  
  
Tim shook his head. “No. We don't know for sure if it's psychological or something physical from the attack. There's a chance you could still be afraid, but not know why.” Shrugging, Tim rubbed his neck. “So my boss, he says the choice is all yours. Normally we'd insist, but you seem cool and we may need to run more tests so this is kinda an unusual situation.”  
  
“Yeah. Your boss sounds okay.”  
  
“Oh he's awesome, he's bi too, you'd like him- I don't mean, like him like him, I just mean-”  
  
Laughing again, Michael shook his head and stood up. “I know what you mean. Look, I can keep a secret, and I swear I'm never telling any of my mates about this. So, even if it means lying about how we met and pretending we're on some God awful online dating site, I think I'd like to carry on remembering. Everything. Especially you.”  
  
Grinning widely, Tim nodded frantically. “I'd like that too.”  
  
“So,” Michael said, clapping his hands. “About that dinner...”  
  
**************************************  
  
Lois brushed a stray plait of hair back from her face and sighed as she hit save on the file summary then sent it to print. All the evidence had already been sorted, labelled, scanned and added to the system and now just the paper copies remained to be sorted. Paper. Such a flimsy medium but one that could last so much longer than everything else. Computers could be hacked, records deleted, spies could infiltrate from afar, but paper required you to be there, to touch it and be a part of it, to physically face up to what you were doing and what had gone before.  
  
Pressing print, she turned in her chair and balanced the paper folder on her lap, reaching out to snag the final summary page from the machine and tuck it into place at the front of the file. Everything was in there, printed and recorded and waiting to warn the future should this ever happen again. The indexing and cross referencing keys on the front had been filled in, the cards for the index drawers printed and stacked neatly on a corner of her desk. Everything was ready for it to go to the archives.  
  
Sitting back in her chair, she checked over her summary one last time before signing it at the bottom and adding the date.  
  
Case closed.


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth...not going all the way, and not starting.”  
> Buddha

_**3 Months Later** _  
  
Rhys Williams squinted against the bright sunlight, listening to the self important droning of the local officials and the VIP from whatever TV show was flavour of the month. They were going on about courage and sacrifice and spirit but to Rhys they were barely audible over the bad sound system, all the good spots taken up by press and VIP's. Instead, he and his family were sat on the stepped edge of the Plass, the air cool despite the bright sun and a lovely afternoon taking shape. As he took in the bright sun, Rhys reached out a hand to adjust the parasol over Angharad's face.  
  
His daughter was sitting upright in her pushchair, babbling to herself as she watched the crowds and looking up at her parents, happily taking in everything around her. A small stuffed Welsh dragon was being waved in her chubby hands as she played, giving the adults a welcome break.   
  
Gwen gave him a small smile, her eyes lighting up as she reached out to take his hand, squeezing his fingers in thanks before facing forward again, the ceremony reaching its climax soon. At least he hoped so.  
  
“I hope they get a move on, some of us have plans tonight,” Captain Jack Harkness grumbled from Gwen's other side, echoing Rhys' thoughts and making him grin. At least he wasn't the only one. As he looked round, he caught Jack casting a sideways glance past Rhys to where Ianto was now crouching down by the pushchair, pulling faces at Harri and pretending to tickle her dragon every time she offered it to him.  
  
“Really? I've got all day,” Ianto said in a sing song voice, a smile twisting up the side of his face and crinkling his beard as Harri stretched her hand out, trying to reach him. Leaning in closer, he let her brush her fingertips over the growth, grinning at his goddaughter as she rewarded him with a smile.  
  
“Ah yes,” Gwen intoned seriously, forcing her face into an expression dripping with gravitas. “Date Night. The night when all of Torchood takes an evening off and has a life, and doesn't come back into work until midday the next day. If you want to invade the Earth, just make sure you do it on Date Night.”  
  
“Hey, don't knock it love,” Rhys pointed out, squeezing her fingers and giving her a wink. “Very important night, Date Night. Morale booster. Almost as good as 'Harri's staying over at your mother's' night, when we get to start practising how to make a baby brother for her-”  
  
“Like we normally let her stop us anyway,” Gwen purred, leaning in to kiss her husband softly. As he kissed her back, Rhys couldn't help feeling grateful for the life he was leading, beautiful wife, gorgeous daughter – and, with the new team permanently in place, Gwen was still happy to take a more hands off role at Torchwood, leaving him not breaking out in a cold sweat every time he thought about her going back to work.  
  
A small cough from Jack made them break off, Gwen turning to elbow Jack hard in the side and making him laugh as he rubbed his ribs before dragging her into an embrace that was half a hug and half a headlock.   
  
“You'll scar the baby for life,” Ianto muttered sadly, making the little dragon 'fly' for Harri even as he glanced up at his friends.  
  
“Oh come on, when I was growing up there was none of this whole, you'll scar the kids if they see a decent snog rubbish,” Jack complained, indicating himself. “I saw my folks all the time, I remember this one time I walked in to find my dad and uncle-”  
  
“Jack!” Gwen admonished, reaching out and pretending to cover Harri's ears, even as she tried not to smile.   
  
“I'm just saying, no one ever stopped me seeing stuff and look how I turned out?”  
  
Rhys hesitated, just a beat, just long enough to catch Gwen's eye.   
  
“Right, that's it love, we're never having sex with her in the house again.”  
  
Laughing, Jack let go of Gwen and pushed her back into Rhys' arms and pouted. “Fine, but see if I ever offer you parenting advice again!”  
  
“It's a win win situation!” Rhys cried out, hugging his wife tight and laughing as she chuckled against his chest, pushing him off but grinning with him.  
  
It was Ianto who stopped them, glancing over his shoulder. He handed the dragon back to Harri then stood up straight, using his hand to shield his eyes as he looked over the Plass to where there was a sound of clapping as the politicians and VIPs finally moved into place.   
  
“Showtime.”  
  
They all stood, falling silent as they watched over the crowds, their eyes drifting over the familiar faces dotted throughout the audience, all paying their respects and marking their decision to make this place their home. This was a reminder to them of the risks of what they had signed up to – and the price that would be paid if they ever stopped. Rhys only knew a few of them, but he spotted Lila easily enough, her newly clown red spikes like a beacon in the crowd and the few around her were recognisable to him in a vague way. He knew the entire Torchwood team was here, in one way or another, either in person or listening in on the radio, marking the occasion.  
  
It was time.  
  
In silence, they watched as the VIP's slipped between the two imposing silver towers stretching up from the Plass like a thumb and forefinger reaching up into the sky, one smaller than the other, both still and peaceful in the calm air. There were more flashes of camera bulbs, a press of a button of some sort mounted into the podium, and then, finally, it was time.  
  
It seemed as though a soft gasp echoed throughout the Plass, although whether it was the awe and admiration of the crowd, or a long held ghost finally slipping away, Rhys didn't know, but as the water began to cascade over the two towers, splashing down their sides, it felt right. The place was complete again, the towers finally erasing the last scars of the explosion that had torn Torchwood apart all those many months ago.   
  
By his side, he felt Gwen stiffen slightly, her fingers finding his and squeezing tight as she remembered that day. But when he looked at her, she was smiling, the look serene and peaceful on her face, as though a long struggle was finally coming to an end. At least, he hoped it was.  
  
The clapping broke the silence at last, the crowd stirring and shifting to see better, chattering and pointing to each other as they watched, and the sound seemed to stir Ianto into action. It was just a small move, just two steps to bring him alongside Jack, just a slide of his arm around Jack's back, slipping under the long coat, but it suddenly occurred to Rhys that it was the first time he had ever seen them do anything like that.   
  
They never usually acted like a couple in public, or had any sort of display of affection, at least not around him. But Jack's arm wrapped around Ianto in return and, instead of pulling away or pretending it was just support, Ianto leaned in to rest his head on Jack's shoulder, Jack's leaning on his.  
  
Rhys suddenly felt like a voyeur, not uncomfortable with the subjects of the embrace, or the level of it – there was barely anything sexual about it at all - but the simple intimacy of it felt private, like he shouldn't be there. Squeezing Gwen's fingers once more, he let go and grabbed the handles of Harri's pushchair, kicking the brake off with a well practised nudge of his toes.  
  
“Come on, let's go introduce Harri to the fun of cold water, shall we?” Gwen cast a discreet glance of her own at Jack and Ianto, then smiled at her husband broadly. Linking arms she rested her fingers over his on the push chair handle. As they walked away, she leaned in to peck his cheek lightly, the faintest whisper of thank you in his ear making him go warm with delight. Okay, so he wasn't saving the world or fighting alien vampire shadow dog things, but he wasn't a bad husband and friend, and, as he led his family through the Plass in the sunlight, he figured that was more than enough for him.  
  
  
**************************************** **********  
  
Many feet below where Rhys was walking, Tim looked up into the roof of the Hub, the silver shafts of the two watertowers extending down into the dark at last, like spears from the Gods pointing down to their lair. Over the speakers set up at the three workstations, he could hear the ceremony finishing and the clapping, it was starting, now was the moment of truth-  
  
“There!” He shouted gleefully, jumping up on his toes and pointing up into the vast expanse, much to the annoyance of his more muted work partner.  
  
“It's water. It's water that is going to come down and mess up your electronics if you are not careful.” Richard was trying to sound annoyed but Tim could hear the gentle teasing in his voice and knew better; he was as excited about this too, he was just too much of a stiff to show it. Bouncing around on the spot, Tim got a wicked grin on his face before jumping at Richard, looping his arms around his neck and almost knocking them both over in his exuberance.  
  
“Admit it, it's awesome,” he challenged before kissing him on the cheek, making him screw up his face.  
  
“Ewww, will you stop doing that you little freak!” Pushing Tim away, Richard ended up having to half walk and half carry him over to the large round table set up in the very centre of the Hub and almost scrape the American off him. “You are disgusting sometimes.”  
  
“Only sometimes,” Tim admitted wistfully, smiling to himself as he lay back on the table and looked up at the ceiling, taking in the vast space around him. They had worked fast over the past few months, clearing out the rubbish and getting all the electronics in in record time, desperate to reclaim the space and get it functional again. Stretching above their heads, he could see the ruins of the former levels, the upper spaces still unusable and the cascading growth of plants from the former hot house almost reaching down to the floor of the hub now, like a hidden portal to some forest world.  
  
The floor space was clear, the walls still rough hewn brick and showing damage everywhere, but they were structurally sound and, in their own way, ruggedly pleasing to the eye. The wall into Jack's office was only half finished, the old partition long since ripped out and the new one incomplete, but the principle was the main thing. A big old fashioned desk and chair were sat in the space, the vault access hidden in the corner and the manhole half tucked away under a stack of boxes. It wasn't much, but it marked his position as boss of the small Hub based sub team, even if he still frequently referred to himself as Johnson's bitch.   
  
The rest of the space was open plan. The entrance to the old autopsy bay, now the unloading bay for bringing up bodies from the archives, was just a dark gash in the wall and the hole to the stairs still stood gaping wide. He knew they hoped to put a more secure entrance over it again soon, to replace the old cog door that stood alongside it, but that was just window dressing as far as he was concerned. For Tim, the place already had everything he needed.  
  
The dark, donut shaped wooden table dominating the centre of the space had been his idea, a central column of display screens and computer ports in its middle. He hoped to have a few computers wired in soon but for now they were using laptops, the docking ports waiting ready as though awaiting the swords of the new knights of the round table. His own machine was humming away peacefully on one side, whereas Richard's three took up almost an entire wedge of his own. The pair of them were alone in the Hub, this phase of their project almost finished and today marking the home straight as far as they were concerned.  
  
Rolling onto his side, Tim looked out over the space and grinned. Instead of reaching the floor, the two fingers from the towers ended in ragged stumps about five feet off the floor, channels at their bases funnelling the water trickling down their length away to safely gather in a small pool underneath the trailing plants. It looked like a bizarre reverse waterfall, but he hoped the water would be a welcome change for the plants. Not that they weren't resilient enough to survive everything that had been thrown at them so far.  
  
But it wasn't the water that he was watching now; his attention was focused on the bizarre machine standing proudly between the flat faces of the towers, wires and cables extending up from its body and into the silver structures. It was as though they were the arms of his machine, its way of reaching up to the heavens from its place in the dark. It was coming together, the pieces scavenged and put into place, the work begun by Quinn and his people built on and expanded, and any day now they would be able to start testing it.  
  
Assuming Richard ever finished his equations that was.  
  
Planting his hand under his head, Tim regarded his friend with a grin. “So,” he challenged, “why is it disgusting when I kiss your cheek, but not when a drunk freshman who thinks you're a film star licks your neck?”  
  
“You're never going to let me forget that, are you?”  
  
“Forget it? Dude, Dave got it on camera and put it on youtube! The real Robert Pattinson had to deny it in an interview, it was awesome!” Laughing at Richard's discomfort, Tim pushed on, determined to challenge his friend at every opportunity. It was the only way to get him to open up and relax a bit, and Tim was determined to get that metaphorical stick out of Richard's ass if it killed him. He liked the guy, he really did, but there was a lifetime of public school programming to overcome and Tim had no time to be subtle.  
  
Of course, subtlety had never really been his forte anyway...  
  
“I'm going to kill Dave,” Richard muttered.  
  
“Stop changing the subject, come on, say it, why is it gross for me and not her?”  
  
“For the record,” Richard said quickly, “I never said it wasn't gross when she did it! She was,” Tim stifled a laugh as Richard visibly shuddered, “really drunk. And smelt.” Tim resorted to biting his lip to stop from laughing, then winced as he caught his new lip ring, his tongue quickly soothing the sore skin. “You're both disgusting.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Besides,” Richard carried on, folding his arms and giving Tim a superior look. “You have a boyfriend, I don't think he'd like you kissing other boys.” Grinning goofily, Tim could feel himself blushing and ducked his head. He had a boyfriend. He really did have a _boyfriend_ ,and it was awesome and- “Especially as you two have a date tonight don't you?”  
  
Nodding, Tim looked up again and couldn't wipe the grin off his face, even though he could feel it was the one that made him look vaguely homicidal. “It's date night.”  
  
“So,” Richard teased, grabbing a chair and swinging himself into it. Rolling closer, he pulled himself to sit at the table, his face close to Tim's. “Is tonight the night you two are finally going to stop being such complete girls and do it?”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Tim shook his head slowly. “You are such a complete tit-”  
  
“Tit?” Richard yelped with delight. “Yes! I will turn you British yet!”  
  
“Just because to you straight guys everything is about sticking your dick in somewhere doesn't mean everything else doesn't count! We've done fucking loads man, we've had sex, 'sides, by your rules, Lila's still a virgin.”  
  
“She is, isn't she?”  
  
Smacking Richard on the side of his head, Tim laughed out loud and curled up on the table. “Fucking idiot vampire boy.”  
  
“Virgin,” Richard shot back. Grinning, Tim could feel his cheeks flush and hoped Richard hadn't spotted it-   
  
Too late.   
  
“Oh my God,” Richard exclaimed, amazed. “You are, aren't you!”  
  
“Shut  _up_ .”  
  
“You really haven't – Hang on, I have to get this straight-”  
  
“That would kinda defeat the object,” Tim laughed.  
  
“Have you never... What's the expression, have you never... Batted?”  
  
Laughing again at Richard's discomfort – and his own embarrassment – Tim curled up into a ball and rocked on the table, his breath coming in gasps with his laughter, his sides hurting with it. It was just too funny, and he could hear Richard lose it too, his head dropping to the table to join him.   
  
Tim couldn't stop for what felt like forever, tears running down his cheeks and he was sure he had ruined his eyeliner, but he didn't care, it was always worth it to see Richard just relax for once. Finally under control again, he wiped his face and his palms came away streaked with watery black and he resigned himself to a bathroom repair job later.  
  
As he began to breathe again, he caught Richard watching him, but the smile was just warm and friendly, encouraging and supportive, no teasing or malice involved, just a genuine curiosity about how he was. It was so strange, there was no attraction between them, no chemistry, but just friendship, like something out of an old war movie. With Big, their growing friendship felt more like he had been adopted, another brother or cousin to those two. But this was more equal, Tim had never had this with another guy before and a part of him suspected Richard hadn't either. Smiling at his friend, he nodded just once.  
  
“I've never done it like, that, you know,” Tim said vaguely, more to avoid scaring Richard off than any discomfort of his own at using the word anal. “Not receiving, though we've played around,” he admitted and could feel himself blushing again. “I'm a bit nervous.”  
  
“Wow,” Richard breathed quietly and reached out to ruffle Tim's hair affectionately. “So, you think tonight...”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“Wow.”  
  
 _“Yeah.”_  
  
Richard hesitated, then his hand slid lower down Tim's neck to hold his head gently. “Call me after, if you need to, you know.”  
  
“Gloat?”  
  
“I was gonna say talk, but yes, that too,” he said with a wink. “Just, you know the deal-”  
  
“No details,” Tim finished for him at the same time.  
  
“And might be better to keep the lights on, first time, make sure you don't, uh, break anything.”  
  
Laughing, Tim rolled over on his back again and thought about his boyfriend, a small smile tracing over his lips as he shook his head and pictured Michael, in his bed, stretched out naked and gorgeous, that Chinese symbol on his arm standing out against his pale skin-  
  
And the child's night light plugged into the wall beside the bed, never going off, illuminating it all. All in all Tim figured sleeping with the lights on was a small price to pay for a chance at happiness. After all, nobody was perfect.  
  
  
**************************************  
  
Lila winced as the clapping echoed around her, her sunglasses hiding the gesture from most but she felt more than saw the triumphant look Dave shot her.   
  
“Told you to take it easy last night,” Dave mocked.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Just saying, should've left it for tonight, least we don't have to be up early tomorrow.”  
  
Wishing her headache would go away, Lila looked up at the now sparkling towers and was suddenly thirsty, her hangover evil but a small price to pay for a good night out.   
  
“Yeah, well, if I hadn't gone out last night I never would have met Candy, and then I wouldn't have a date for tonight, would I?”  
  
“Candy,” Dave snorted, “bet you ten to one her real name's something awful like, like Pam.”  
  
“What's wrong with Pam?” Jimmy asked suspiciously from beyond him. “My mother is a Pamela.”  
  
“Yeah, but you wouldn't date your mother would you?”  
  
“Are you saying my mother is ugly?”  
  
“I... No! I just-”  
  
“Because that's just uncool mate,” Jimmy said, folding his arms in anger, “really uncool.”  
  
“No, I-” Dave looked flustered and Lila almost took pity on him. Almost. Resisting the urge to smile, she pushed Dave on the shoulder.  
  
“Quit whilst you're behind and go get me a coffee. Extra shot.”  
  
“I'm not your slave.”  
  
“Yes you are,” Lila and Jimmy said at the same time. With a final despairing look, Dave stomped off into the crowd. As soon as he was clear, they both started laughing.  
  
“Your mother is called  _Pamela_ ?” Lila mocked, “Oh come on, there's no way that's true.”  
  
“Of course not, Pamela is hardly a traditional name,” Jimmy sniggered. “How gullible is he?”  
  
“Depends on what day of the week it is,” Lila said, shaking her head.  
  
“He had a point though. Candy?”  
  
Snorting, Lila folded her arms. “Of course it's not her real name, how dumb do you boys think I am?” Smiling smugly, she looked up at the towers and sighed dreamily. “It's her stage name.”  
  
“Actress?”  
  
“Stripper.”  
  
“Oh.” Jimmy hesitated a second as that sank in. “You're dating a stripper?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“A lesbian stripper.”  
  
“Uh huh.”  
  
“So not all strippers really want to sleep with their customers?” As Lila just laughed, Jimmy shook his head sadly. “Do me a favour? Don't tell Dave, it will be like saying Father Christmas doesn't exist, or that you can't really rule the world via Facebook. He'd be crushed.”  
  
“It's a deal.” Laughing again, Lila nodded and wrapped her arm around him, steering them both through the crowds towards the café.   
  
“Oh and one more thing?” Jimmy asked.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Can you teach me how to get a hot stripper girlfriend too?”  
  
  
**************************************** **  
  
Big Ears looked over at his little brother, then down at the phone in his hand, his fingertip hovering over the button. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”  
  
Sammy looked tired, bags under his eyes even now, but he knew they were less a leftover from the trauma his body had almost fully recovered from, and more because they had been sat up all night talking about this. They had been over it, every single possible outcome, every tactic they would use, how they would cope with whatever the result was.   
  
Sammy nodded, screwing his eyes closed briefly as he dragged in a deep breath. His hair was getting far too long, a fringe now hanging down over his left eye, his dark locks streaked light blonde in places. His eyes were rimmed with a faint smudge of eyeliner, left over from the gay club he, Tim, Lila and some of the others had been to the night before.   
  
Big Ears had pleaded tiredness to get out of it, but in reality he was just so pleased Sam had friends like that now, people he could trust and rely on other than his brother. It felt good to be able to relax and let him go off and have fun. It was even better to not have to actually  _see_  how much fun he was having either; homoerotic displays didn't faze him, but watching his kid brother make out – with anyone – was just wrong.  
  
His kid brother. Sammy looked so different to the kid Big had once had to drag to the hospital on a bus, too freaked and his knuckles hurting too much to drive, but too scared to call an ambulance. They were older now, yes, but it was more than that. Sam had a confidence to him now, he looked comfortable in his own skin for the first time in years, and he was ready to fight for what he wanted and God help the rest of the world.  
  
And Big. Hesitating, Big Ears looked at the phone once more, his mouth opening to speak before Sam laughed and shook his head. “Oh for goodness sake, give it here.” Taking the phone from his fingers, Sam tossed him a small smile and pressed the button. He looked strong, confident, so much stronger than Big felt right now, his stomach tied in knots and his heart pounding. How could Sam not feel it too?  
  
But then he felt his brother's hand steal into his, wrapping their fingers together and squeezing tight as the call connected and Sam finally spoke. “Hello? Hi, mum. It's me, Samm- Samuel. And Daniel. It's... Us. We want to talk.” Glancing at his brother, Sam's smile became nervous but hopeful as he held on tight and Big watched him closely, holding on tight too but ready.  
  
Whatever happened, they had their family right here, the two of them and the rest of their team. They had taken a chance and trusted and it had worked. Yes they had been let down in the past, and would probably let the team down in turn at some point, but they would still go on. Whatever they did, whoever they were, whatever happened, their Torchwood family would be there, would always accept them.  
  
Now the two brothers just had to see if their biological family was ready to do the same.  
  
****************************************  
  
Martha Jones sat on one of the benches outside the hospital, the bulk of it looming up beside her as she gazed up at its windows, idly searching for a glimpse of a familiar face as she waited. The hospital was busy, people bustling in and out of its door, subdued on the way in but an air of freedom and relief as they left. At least now everyone who came here was coming here to get better. Hopefully.  
  
'Under new management' didn't quite cover what they had done here. They hadn't realised at the time quite how much of a reach Quinn's friends had; the private hospital's entire top layer of management and trustees had been in on the whole thing, allowing their hospital to be used as a research ground for the test subjects left over from whatever came through the rift. The entire top two floors were filled with people who had been used and abused in the name of scientific discovery. The rest of the hospital had been a front, the public face of the hospital giving them legitimacy.  
  
Clean up had taken weeks. But, even if she had been against it at the time, she had to admit, the solution had been uniquely elegant in the end. Under new management.  
  
It had been decided that, to protect national security, it was not in the public's best interests to know that a hospital had been kidnapping people and using them as guinea pigs in alien experiments. Not to mention, most of the staff had no idea what had been going on, their only interest had been in protecting their patients.   
  
However, whatever the hospital's secret mission may have been, they had certainly spared no expense gathering together experts in their fields and putting them to work, just without telling them where their patients had come from. They had never suspected anything was wrong, and it would be a shame to lose all that expertise, especially at a time when the NHS was overstretched and forced to make cuts as it was. So, Torchwood, with the aid of UNIT, had taken over the entire operation, lock stock and barrel – or should that be syringe, tourniquet and IV, Martha wondered to herself.   
  
They now had their own hospital.   
  
Some of the victims of the rift from Flat Holm had been transferred over, although most were too severely traumatised to cope with any relocation. But the other floors were now a mixture of referrals, research and plastic surgery – partly to help with the victims who had been injured by aliens or unusual technology, but also as Ianto put it, to help pay the rent.  
  
It had been a huge task, taking over such a complex operation, and nobody at Torchwood had had the right expertise to pull it off, except for-  
  
Martha smiled as a familiar face caught her eye, the young woman spotting her as she left the hospital and hurrying over. “Hello Martha, you waiting for Tom?” Nodding, Martha couldn't help blushing at the grin the woman gave her. “Third night this week, things must be going well.”  
  
“I hope so,” Martha admitted. “We're still taking it slow.”  
  
“Well, you two have a lovely evening. Looks like you picked a good night for it!”  
  
As the woman left, Martha let her gaze drift upwards to the evening sky, the moon shining hazily through the fading sunlight. It was a beautiful evening, the air full of hope and expectation. Of course, that might have been her projecting her own feelings onto the sky.  
  
Taking things slow. It had been Tom's idea, a second chance for them both, the connection between them somehow too strong for them to give up, but not enough on its own. They needed more, they needed to get to know and trust each other again. He needed to be able to trust her, and she needed to really get to know him, the real him. One city, but two flats, two separate jobs, two lives, each having their own space to work out how they felt and if they wanted to take it further or call it a day.   
  
Cardiff had been decided on as the city, each feeling that having their families so near by had previously given them both excuses to be distracted and avoid each other. Flats were simple enough. And, as it had happened, there had been two jobs going that they were uniquely suited to fill...  
  
Martha grinned as she spotted Tom at last, a Land Rover pulling up in the hospital ambulance bay and her husband jumping out, slamming the door and pounding a flat hand on the roof as it screeched off again, Bill visible behind the wheel. Tom's eyes locked onto hers and he smiled, his face lighting up as he saw her, and she could feel herself melting under his gaze a little. He was casually dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt, his leather jacket scratched and wearing in places but with his job that was hardly surprising. After all, nobody knew how hard being the chief medical officer for Torchwood was on your wardrobe quite like Martha Jones.  
  
Rising to her feet, she slipped into his arms for a hug and smiled against his jacket as he held her tight, a kiss to the top of her straightened hair making her shiver. Pulling back enough to see him, but holding on still so he didn't have an excuse to let her go, she looked up at her husband with a soft smile, one that she was starting to realise she used only for him.   
  
“Hi honey, how was your day?” She asked sweetly, a teasing tone to her voice as he grinned back before rolling his eyes and looking up to the sky.  
  
“Oh the usual, we managed to pull another three bodies out of the cryogenics chambers, had to screen Jimmy Chen for the Noxy equivalent of mumps after the ambassador left, I don't know what it is about that man but he is an alien bug magnet.”  
  
“Better than being an alien babe magnet.”  
  
“John's fine,” Tom said without missing a beat, his eyes crinkling lightly with his smile. “Had to treat him for a burn on his arm that was threatening to go bad-”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“He wouldn't say, so I suspect Johnson.” Laughing, Martha wriggled happily in his arms and he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How about you, did things go okay with the interviews?”  
  
“Very well,” she admitted, glancing up at the hospital again, a proud look on her face as she took it in. It was a complex operation, a mixture of regular medical research and alien research and clean up under one roof, but it was hers now. For the first time since the Doctor, she felt like she really was in the right place, at the right time, and making a difference again. No armies, no big battles, no faceless victims, just her being what she needed to be; a doctor. “Oh remind me to thank Grace for the recommendations, her friend is excellent, a very strong candidate for the job.”  
  
“You can thank her yourself next week, she wants to pop over for a visit. I said I'd buy her dinner.”  
  
“Doctor Milligan, are you taking other women out on dates?” Martha admonished, a gleam in her eye as she pulled back, stretching his grip around her until just his fingers were on her back.  
  
“No, just you.” Tugging her sharply back into his arms, he kissed her properly at last, her arms rising up to wrap around his neck as she kissed him back. There was no desperation, no urgent need. As the world carried on drifting its way around them, there was nothing to mark them out as heroes, no hint that between them they were the worlds newest and greatest experts on xenobiology. Right now, in each others arms, there was no ego, no mission, no big rush. They were nothing special at all.  
  
Just two people taking it slow.   
  
***************************************  
  
Johnson stifled a yawn as she pushed through the door to her flat, dropping her keys onto the side and kicking it closed behind her. The daylight was streaming through her open curtains, filling the too small space with bright light, but she craved the darkness of her bedroom and the thick curtains, cool sheets and ear plugs that were waiting for her.   
  
The night shift had gone well, but they had been busy. Three weevils, one alien artefact that appeared to be giving people hallucinations of a giant green shrubbery blocking their path around the city, and a false alarm at a nightclub that turned out to just be a bad batch of pills. Her boys had handled themselves well, but it had still been a busy night.  
  
Entering her bedroom, Johnson stopped as she spotted the small holdall propped up beside her open wardrobe doors. A flash of red slipped into view from its hiding place behind the door and she sighed.  
  
“You're off again then?”  
  
Captain John Hart stuck his head around the door and grinned, shrugging as he stepped back and shoved an off-white t-shirt into the bag, zipping it up. “Yep. It's too quiet round here at the moment, and Jack's winding me up, keeps going on about Ianto and his whole new house thing, like they're some bloody married couple. I need a break. You know me.”  
  
“No, I don't,” Johnson said, slipping out of her jacket and shedding layers as she made her way to the bed, “and if I did, I certainly wouldn't be sleeping with you.”  
  
“Fair point,” John chuckled, watching as she stripped, folding or discarding her clothes efficiently before she flicked back the sheets and slid between them. She could see him swallow hard, his eyes watching her every move as she dragged a wipe over her face and reached for her ear plugs.   
  
“Y'know,” he added, “I miss you when I'm away.”  
  
Laughing, Johnson settled down on the pillow, closing her eyes and not even looking as she felt the bed dip beside her, the familiar weight of John lying by her side. “Liar.”  
  
“It's true.” She shivered at the sensation of a fingertip dragging its way up her leg, the cool sheet somehow amplifying the touch. “You're a hard woman to forget, Agent Johnson.”  
  
“Try Retcon.”  
  
“Will you miss me?”   
  
“No.” As the touch trailed higher, she felt her muscles tense and relax and shift under the sheets, her body betraying her and making a mockery of her answer. The truth was, she would. She didn't love him, far from it, she didn't even really like him, but she could see in him so much of herself.   
  
They were kindred spirits, but not of the fluffy soul mates variety, more of the dark partners in crime level, egging each other on to darker extremes. So far they had kept it just between the two of them, but she lived in both fear and anticipation of the day she crossed the line and, instead of pulling him into the light, let herself be dragged into the darkness with him.  
  
He was dangerous and dark and exciting and the best bit was, she knew he saw exactly the same in her. Another time, another place, far from the responsibilities and loyalties she used to keep herself in check, and who knew what they would be capable of. For good or evil, she had no idea, but either way it would be fun.  
  
“You know,” John whispered, breaking into her thoughts as his fingers drifted over her stomach, “you don't have to miss me.”  
  
“That's good because I don't intend to.”  
  
“You could always... come with me.”  
  
She opened her eyes, surprise making her need to see his face, her lips curling up as she sought the joke, the mischievous lie, in his eyes and mockery. Instead, she felt herself frown, all thoughts of his touch forgotten as she shifted on the bed to rise up on her elbows. He was serious.  
  
“Go with you.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“Wherever we want,” he grinned. “I mean, on Earth anyway, but once the geek boys work out how to lasso the rift again and cut the interference on this thing,” he wriggled his wrist strap, “then time and space are ours to play with. Just think, you and me, in the stars, we could go mercenary or stick to good old fashion cons; there are some that work better with a female that I never got to try out yet. We could do whatever we wanted, no ties, no rules... Just fun.”  
  
“Fun.” She sounded the word out as she said it, trying hard to figure out just what Captain John Hart would consider fun – and to remember what she would say if someone asked her what it was. It had been a long time since she had done anything for herself that would be considered fun. Even sex with John was not something she would describe as fun; brutal, diverting, fulfilling, satisfying, even mind blowing, but fun? Never.  
  
“You and me, space, time, we can fight and fuck our way around the universe.”  
  
Closing her eyes again, Johnson collapsed back onto the pillow, shaking her head. “My team-”  
  
“Will be fine without you. Bill and Ben are more than capable of running things. Doesn't have to be forever,” he pointed out, his fingers returning to their slow exploration of her cotton covered body, “just think of it as a, a sabbatical thing. Recharge, top up the batteries, maybe learn some new tricks.”  
  
“I'm not sure I like the idea of them coping without me,” she smiled just a little, relaxing under his touch. “But I do like the idea that you can't bear to be without me for even a few weeks any more.”  
  
The finger hesitated, stopping its path before circling in place on her hip, as though his attention was all on his own thoughts, before he whispered again. “Maybe I can't. Maybe I love you.”  
  
Keeping her eyes closed, she shook her head slightly. “You're not capable of love, John, we both know that. Habit, obsession, control, any of those I could believe. But never love.”  
  
A soft chuckle made her smile again, before lips pressed against her shoulder, soft but with a touch of hunger to them as she felt the faintest scrape of teeth over her skin.   
  
“Okay, you got me, so I don't love you. But I  _want_  you. Maybe I even need you. That's still gotta be a decent offer right? So,” she winced as he paused to bite into her skin, a leisurely pain that made her body shiver with the promise of more to come. “What do you say, Johnson, come with me?”  
  
Sighing, Johnson rested her hands on her stomach, staring through her closed eyelids at the ceiling and just smiled.  
  
**************************************   
  
Jack moved silently through the pitch black space, his footsteps sure as he navigated through the echoing room, the space familiar to him by now. He held his arms in front of him, his hands full and clasping his burdens tightly as he concentrated, unable to feel his way through the dark. He could hear the soft creak of the wooden floorboards beneath his feet, the sound sharp in the room, bouncing around empty air. His footsteps were quiet, just a soft padding, his bare feet grateful for the warmth of the wood compared to the chill walls. As he made for the doorway, his bare shoulder caught the newly stripped plaster, cool and a little rough against his skin.   
  
It was lighter in the hall, the streetlight outside casting multicoloured spots through the glass set into the front door, the light brushing over his toes like a six year olds' nail varnish experiment. There was very little light, but he avoided it anyway, keeping to the shadows as best he could, trying to protect his night vision. He would need it.  
  
The stairs were carpeted, muffling his approach, but the third one creaked under his weight and he heard something from upstairs, a soft thud of something falling. He had been heard. Dammit.  
  
He froze, listening, waiting to hear for any further movement, but there was nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack carried on up the stairs, keeping his feet to the sides as much as possible to avoid the creakier centre. He had to stay silent or he would be caught.   
  
It was darker upstairs, the light banished from the rooms by heavy curtains, old and dusty but soon to be replaced. For now, three of the doors lining the narrow hallway were shut, but the fourth and final one at the end was ajar, only the softest glow from the crack escaping to speak of what lay within. His target.  
  
As he padded softly closer, the cheap carpet tickling at his toes unpleasantly, he could hear the faintest sound from within, a rhythmic purring, low and unhurried, escaping into the night. His prey was sleeping, unaware of his approach, defenceless and vulnerable.  
  
Perfect.  
  
Pushing the door open with his foot, Jack looked into the room, his eyes avoiding the single tea light burning patiently on top of a simple chest of drawers, masking tape wrapped over them to keep them closed. The candle flickered slightly, as though welcoming him, and the wide glass holder keeping it safe hinted at the attentive and safety conscious owner of this property. The room was devoid of personal touches but far from bare, boxes stacked up against the walls and labelled in neat handwriting with things like “bedroom”, “work stuff” and “study”.   
  
There was just one box that wasn't labelled with a destination or list of its contents and that was not stacked against the wall. Instead, it was on the floor, sitting at the foot of a king size bed, its lid half way across the room and its contents messily pushed up to one side, as though something from the bottom of the box had been uprooted and removed. But the box did bear a label, different handwriting on this one, still relatively neat but at the same time just a little more flamboyant. Much like the owner of that particular box.  
  
As he stepped closer to the bed, his shadow flickered over the box, and he reflexively read the label even though he knew all too well what it said, just a simple word that said so much about what lay inside. 'Jack's.'   
  
Although, part of him hoped that label could apply just as much to the occupant of the bed, purring softly in his sleep.  
  
Putting the glasses he was holding down on the box nearest to the bed, Jack perched on the edge and just looked at Ianto, sprawled across it. He was face down, his head tilted to the side, and his limbs splayed out like a starfish over the new sheets. Jack could still see the creases from where they had been in the packet, straight lines and flowering starbursts of creases marking the simple blue cotton.   
  
The duvet hadn't been so bad, although Ianto had managed to twist or kick it so it was hanging half off the bed and only half over himself. There was just the hint of a dimple showing at the base of his spine before all was covered in the warm bedding, and Jack smiled to himself as he just watched Ianto sleeping. He was almost tired himself, his body exhausted, but his mind didn't want to switch off yet, didn't want to let go of this moment without savouring every second of it.  
  
The house was so still, so quiet, he could barely believe they were still in the city, that there were no car sounds or screaming neighbours. Even the ever present seagulls were peaceful at this hour – or they had found better prey outside the chip shops and kebab houses. It was so peaceful, and safe, even incomplete like this. Ianto had moved in just a few days ago and whilst his suits were hanging neatly in the built in wardrobe, nearly everything else was still boxed and packed, as though Ianto was not quite ready to make the commitment or believe it was real yet.  
  
Jack couldn't blame him. The house was big, three bedrooms, and he wasn't sure what Ianto would do with all that space but it had been important to him to have it, to have a space that was really his at last. A home.  
  
He could read it in the relatively small number of boxes, in the lack of furniture, that Ianto hadn't really been settling anywhere for a while. But there was something more obvious than that.  
  
There was one box, downstairs in what would be the lounge, that still bore the shredded remnants of evidence tape, its sides covered in codes and names. Ianto had got the box back from the government but only after they had been through everything in it to try and piece together a profile or analysis of him, to find some evidence they could use against him. Every photo had other peoples fingerprints on it, every keepsake considered and used to try and work out who Ianto Jones really was. Jack had looked in it earlier and had somehow known nothing had been removed since Ianto had been given it back. Everything personal, everything him, had been tucked away in one box, light and portable and ready to go at a moments notice.  
  
But now, an old photo of Rhiannon and her family sat on top of the chest of drawers, opposite one of them at Gwen's wedding, their whole little Torchwood family together and celebrating for one of their own for a brief shining moment. A photo of Ianto's mum, smiling but somehow a little sad, was tucked away behind Rhiannon and a simple shot of Lisa was downstairs, ready to go on a shelf that had yet to be screwed together. Pieces of Ianto were starting to escape from the box, starting to take root, and Jack knew that he was finally starting to let his guard down. He was settled, at peace, and finally content with who and where he was.  
  
As was Jack. Mostly.  
  
Stretching out a hand, he brushed a small lock of hair from Ianto's face and grinned as he brushed over freshly shaven skin. The beard was gone, a close shave that he had suggested as a joke turning into something else entirely as he had lathered Ianto's skin and been handed the razor. Ianto was letting go of the barriers he had been putting up between them as well. And who knew, whilst a three bedroom house made little sense for a man on his own, perhaps Ianto would soon be ready to make it into something more, something... shared.  
  
When he was ready. For now, Jack was content with a spare key to the door, a side of the bed, and a box.   
  
And date night.  
  
“Are you going to stare at me all night?”  
  
Jack laughed, so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed when Ianto's snoring had slipped into steady breathing instead. His eyes were still shut, but there was a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips and Jack dragged his finger down to trace over it, enjoying anew the lack of hair.  
  
“If you're going to sleep all night then yeah, I think I will.”  
  
“Could you do it less obviously? I feel like I'm under a spotlight here.”  
  
“Ooo now that sounds like fun-” Jack laughed as Ianto groaned and grabbed his pillow, pulling it up over his head.  
  
“Why do I always forget how little sleep you need?”  
  
“Because you're too busy focusing on the things I do whilst you're awake?” There was silence from the pillow, then what may have been a shrug from Ianto's shoulder blades. “Do you ever forget those things?” he asked, dragging his hand down Ianto's spine and was surprised when Ianto pulled the pillow off his head and twisted to look up at him, his hair mussed and his eyes tired but earnest.  
  
“Sometimes,” he whispered, “but I try very hard not to.”  
  
Jack was taken aback by the honest answer and swallowed hard, caught between the instinct to make some flippant joke, to flirt, make a move or just come out with a lewd innuendo and the desire to say something back, to somehow make it clear. To explain how he tried never to forget either, to express how much it tore him apart to know that no matter how hard he tried, how many times he tried to focus and make sure, that one day he would lose all of this, that he would forget Ianto's smile and the way his hair would mess up like that or how his lips felt.   
  
To say the words that were always caught at the back of his throat.  
  
Instead, Jack leaned forwards and kissed him, feeling Ianto respond, sleepy but encouraging. It wasn't perfect, there was no grand passion or even great technique, Ianto's lips heavy with tiredness and his timing off, but suddenly Jack hoped that if he could keep one memory of Ianto, if he could just hang on to this second, then perhaps it would be enough.  
  
Breaking off at last, he felt Ianto drop back down to the bed, relaxed and sleepy as his eyes were already closing again. Jack watched for a few more seconds before getting up again. As he blew out the candle, he felt Ianto's eyes on him, even though the darkness covering the room was complete.  
  
“I thought you wanted the light?” Ianto asked, a touch of confusion in his voice as Jack navigated his way back to the bed, catching his foot against the box and kicking it further under the trailing duvet. Clambering in beside Ianto, Jack wrestled the duvet back up properly so it could cover them both, ignoring Ianto's soft complaint as the warm section was pulled off him and cooler cotton touched his skin.  
  
“I'm not afraid of the dark,” Jack whispered back, twisting to drape his arm across Ianto and kiss his shoulder gently. “Not if I can share it with you.”  
  
  
 **The End**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 _The Fate of Mr Quinn_  
  
Dr Amber Murphy wasn't sure what to do with this man. He had been brought into the ER as a John Doe after he had been found wandering the streets by a couple of students over in Queens. He had no ID, certainly no insurance, and was making no sense at all. He couldn't even tell her his own name, his eyes blank. But his accent wasn't American, at least not anywhere she had ever heard before, it was harsh but reminded her of something she'd heard on TV. Maybe something European, she would ask the British doctor on fifth to come listen to him if she had a chance.   
  
It didn't really make much difference; they would take care of him as best they could, check with the police and the embassies to see if they could find out who he was, and pass him on to someone else to deal with.   
  
It would help if they could ever get any sense out of him. All he ever said was the same thing over and over, his mind gone and fixated on one thing only, perhaps the last thing he had heard before whatever had happened to him, or some clue to his attackers. Maybe someone would be able to work out what it meant but, as she noted it on his chart and moved on, she knew it wouldn't be her who would figure out the meaning behind the words.  
  
 _Quebec, Quantico, Queens. Someplace beginning with Q._


End file.
